
















































































































































































































































i 



J & £> P b 



H E U-H EU 

or 

THE MONSTER 




WORKS BY 

H. RIDER HAGGARD 

Parliamentary Blue-Book 

REPORT TO H.M.’s GOVERNMENT ON THE SALVATION 
ARMY COLONIES in the United States, with Scheme of 
National Land Settlement. [Cd. 2562.] 

Political History 

CETEWAYO AND HIS WHITE NEIGHBOURS 

Works on Agriculture , Country Life 
and Sociology 


RURAL ENGLAND (2 vols). 
THE POOR AND THE LAND 
A FARMER’S YEAR 


A GARDENER’S YEAR 

REGENERATION 

RURAL DENMARK AND ITS 

LESSONS 


Book of Travel 

A WINTER PILGRIMAGE 


Novels 


DAWN 

THE WITCH’S HEAD 
JESS 

COLONEL QUARITCH, V. C. 
BEATRICE 


JOAN HASTE 
DOCTOR THERNE 
STELLA FREGELIUS 
THE WAY OF THE SPIRIT 
LOVE ETERNAL 


Romances 


KING SOLOMON’S MINES 
SHE 

ALLAN QUATERMAIN 
MAIWA’S REVENGE 
MR. MEESON’S WILL 
ALLAN’S WIFE 
CLEOPATRA 
ERIC BRIGHTEYES 
NADA THE LILY 
MONTEZUMA’S DAUGHTER 
THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST 
HEART OF THE WORLD 
SWALLOW 

BLACK HEART AND WHITE 
HEART 
LYSBETH 
PEARL MAIDEN 
THE BRETHREN 
AYESHA: THE RETURN OF 
SHE 
BENITA 

FAIR MARGARET 
THE GHOST KINGS 


THE YELLOW GOD: AN IDOL 
OF AFRICA 
MORNING STAR 
THE LADY OF BLOSSHOLME 
QUEEN SHEBA’S RING 
RED EVE 

THE MAHATMA AND THE 
HARE 
MARIE 

CHILD OF STORM 
THE WANDERER’S NECK¬ 
LACE 

THE HOLY FLOWER 
THE IVORY CHILD 
FINISHED 

WHEN THE WORLD SHOOK 
MOON OF ISRAEL 
THE ANCIENT ALLAN 
SMITH AND THE PHARAOHS, 
AND OTHER TALES 
SHE AND ALLAN 
THE VIRGIN OF THE SUN 
WISDOM’S DAUGHTER 


(In collaboration with Andrew Lang) 
THE WORLD’S DESIRE 




H EU-HEU 

or 

THE MONSTER 

By 

H. Rider t^aggard 



Garden City New York 
Doubleday, Page & Company 
1924 










COPYRIGHT, I923, I924, BY 
H. RIDER HAGGARD 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES 
AT 

THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y. 

First Edition 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Storm . i 

II. The Picture in the Cave. 14 

III. The Opener-of-Roads.30 

IV. The Legend of Heu-Heu.49 

V. Allan Makes a Promise. 63 

VI. The Black River. 84 

VII. The Walloo.100 

VIII. The Holy Isle.118 

IX. The Feast.134 

X. The Sacrifice.150 

XI. The Sluice Gate.166 

XII. The Plot.180 

XIII. The Terrible Night ...... 195 

XIV. The End of Heu-Heu. 210 

XV. Sabeela’s Farewell. 233 

XVI. The Race for Life. 248 































THE MONSTER 


AUTHOR’S NOTE 


The author wishes to state that this tale was 
written in 'ts present form some time before the dis¬ 
covery in Rhodesia of the fossilized and immeasur¬ 
ably ancient remains of the proto-human person 
who might well have been one of the Heuheua, the 
“Hairy Wood-Folk,” of which it tells through the 
mouth of Allan Quatermain. 



Heu-Heu, or the Monster 

CHAPTER I 
The Storm 

Now I, the Editor, whose duty it has been as an ex¬ 
ecutor or otherwise, to give to the world so many 
histories of, or connected with, the adventures of my 
dear friend, the late Allan Quatermain, or Macuma- 
zahn, Watcher-by-Night, as the natives in Africa used 
to call him, come to one of the most curious of them 
all. Here I should say at once that he told it to me 
many years ago at his house called “The Grange,” 
in Yorkshire, where I was staying, but a little while 
before he departed with Sir Henry Curtis and Cap¬ 
tain Good upon his last expedition into the heart of 
Africa, whence he returned no more. 

At the time I made very copious notes of a history 
that struck me as strange and suggestive, but the fact 
is that afterwards I lost them and could never trust 
my memory to reproduce even their substance with 
the accuracy which I knew my departed friend would 
have desired. 

Only the other day, however, in turning out a box- 
room, I came upon a hand-bag which I recognized as 
one that I had used in the far past when I was prac¬ 
tising, or trying to practise, at the Bar. With a 
certain emotion such as overtakes us when, after the 
lapse of many years, we are confronted by articles 


* HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

connected with the long-dead events of our youth, I 
took it to a window and with some difficulty opened 
its rusted catch. In the bag was a small collection 
of rubbish: papers connected with cases on which 
once I had worked as “devil” for an eminent and 
learned friend who afterwards became a judge, a 
blue pencil with a broken point, and so forth. 

I looked through the papers and studied my own 
marginal notes made on points in causes which I had 
utterly forgotten, though doubtless these had been 
important enough to me at the time, and, with a sigh, 
tore them up and threw them on the floor. Then I 
reversed the bag to knock out the dust. As I was 
doing this there slipped from an inner pocket, a very 
thick notebook with a shiny black cover such as 
used to be bought for sixpence. I opened that book 
and the first thing that my eye fell upon was this 
heading: 

“Summary of A. Q.’s Strange Story of the 
Monster-God, or Fetish, Heu-Heu, which 
He and the Hottentot Hans Discovered in 
Central South Africa.” 

Instantly everything came back to me. I saw 
myself, a young man in those days, making those 
shorthand notes late one night in my bedroom at the 
Grange before the impression of old Allan’s story 
had become dim in my mind, also continuing them 
in the train upon my journey south on the morrow, 
and subsequently expanding them in my chambers at 
Elm Court in the Temple whenever I found time to 
spare. 

I remembered, too, my annoyance when I dis¬ 
covered that this notebook was nowhere to be 
found, although I was aware that I had put it away 
in some place that I thought particularly safe. I 


THE STORM 


3 

can still see myself hunting for it in the little study 
of the house I had in a London suburb at the time, 
and at last giving up the quest in despair. Then 
the years went on and many things happened, so that 
in the end both notes and the story they outlined were 
forgotten. Now they have appeared again from the 
dust-heap of the past, reviving many memories, and 
I set out the tale of this particular chapter of the 
history of the adventurous life of my beloved friend, 
Allan Quatermain, who so long ago was gathered to 
the Shades that await us all. 

One night, after a day’s shooting, we—that is, old 
Allan, Sir Henry Curtis, Captain Good, and I—were 
seated in the smoking room of Quatermain’s house, 
the Grange, in Yorkshire, smoking and talking of 
many things. 

I happened to mention that I had read a paragraph, 
copied from an American paper, which stated that a 
huge reptile of an antediluvian kind had been seen 
by some hunters in a swamp of the Zambesi, and 
asked Allan if he believed the story. He shook his 
head and answered in a cautious fashion which sug¬ 
gested to me, I remember, his unwillingness to give 
his views as to the continued existence of such crea¬ 
tures on the earth, that Africa is a big place and it was 
possible that in its recesses prehistoric animals or 
reptiles lingered on. 

“1 know that this is the case with snakes,” he 
continued hurriedly as though to avoid the larger 
topic, “for once I came across one as large as the 
biggest Anaconda that is told of in South America, 
where occasionally they are said to reach a length of 
sixty feet or even more. Indeed, we killed it—or 
rather my Hottentot servant, Hans, did—after it had 
crushed and swallowed one of our party. This snake 


4 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

was worshipped as a kind of god, and might have 
given rise to the tale of enormous reptiles. Also, to 
omit other experiences of which I prefer not to speak, 

I have seen an elephant so much above the ordinary 
in size that it might have belonged to a prehistoric 
age. This elephant had been known for centuries 

and was named Jana. . . , ■ o . 

“Did you kill it?’ inquired Good, peering at 
him through his eyeglass in his quick, inquisitive 

Wa Iilan coloured beneath his tan and wrinkles, and 
said, rather sharply for him, who was so gentle and 

hard to irritate, , _ . . u u 

“Have you not learned, Good, that you should 
never ask a hunter, and above all a professional 
hunter, whether he did or did not kill a particular 
head of game unless he volunteers the information. 
However, if you want to know, I did not kill that 
elephant; it was Hans who killed it and thereby 
saved my life. I missed it with both barrels at a 
distance of a few yards.” 

“Oh, I say, Quatermain!” ejaculated the irre¬ 
pressible Good. “Do you mean to tell us that you 
missed a particularly big elephant that was only a 
few yards off? You must have been in a pretty 
fright to do that.” . „ 

“Have I not said that I missed it, Good? ror 
the rest, perhaps you are right, and I was frightened, 
for as you know, I never set myself up as a person 
remarkable for courage. In the circumstances of 
the encounter with this beast, Jana, any one might 
have been frightened; indeed, even you yourself, 
Good. Or, if you choose to be charitable, you may 
conclude that there were other reasons for that dis¬ 
graceful—yes, disgraceful exhibition of which I 
cannot bear to think and much less to talk, seeing 


THE STORM 5 

that in the end it brought about the death of old 
Hans—whom I loved.” 

Now Good was about to answer again, for argu¬ 
ment was as the breath of his nostrils, but I saw Sir 
Henry stretch out his long leg and kick him on the 
shin, after which he was silent. 

“To return/’ said Allan hastily, as one does who 
desires to escape from an unpleasant subject, “in the 
course of my life I did once meet, not with a pre¬ 
historic reptile, but with a people who worshipped a 
Monster-god, or fetish, of which perhaps the origin 
may have been a survival from the ancient world.” 

He stopped with the air of one who meant to say 
no more, and I asked eagerly: “What was it, Allan?” 

“To answer that would involve a long story, my 
friend,” he replied, “and one that, if I told it, Good, 
I am sure, would not believe; also, it is getting late 
and might bore you. Indeed, I could not finish it 
to-night.” 

“There are whisky, soda, and tobacco, and what¬ 
ever Curtis and Good may do, here, fortified by these, 
I remain between you and the door until you tell me 
that tale, Allan. You know it is rude to go to bed 
before your guests, so please get on with it at once,” 
I added, laughing. 

The old boy hummed and hawed and looked cross, 
but as we all sat round him in an irritating silence 
which seemed to get upon his nerves, he began at last: 

Well, if you will have it, many years ago, when 
by comparison I was a young man, I camped one day 
well up among the slopes of the Drakensberg. I was 
going up Pretoria way with a load of trade goods 
which I hoped to dispose of amongst the natives 
beyond, and when I had done so to put in a month or 
two game-shooting towards the north. As it hap- 


6 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

pened, when we were in an open space of ground be¬ 
tween two of the foothills of the Berg, we got caught 
in a most awful thunderstorm, one of the worst that 
ever I experienced. If I remember right, it was 
about mid-January and you, my friend [this was 
addressed to me], know what Natal thunderstorms 
can be at that hot time of the year. It seemed to 
come upon us from two quarters of the sky, the tact 
being that it was a twin storm of which the com¬ 
ponent parts were travelling towards each other. 

The air grew thick and dense; then came the usual 
moaning, icy wind followed by something like dark¬ 
ness, although it was early in the afternoon. On the 
peaks of the mountains around us lightnings were 
already playing, but as yet I heard no thunder, and 
there was no rain. In addition to the driver and 
voorlooper of the wagon I had with me Hans, of 
whom I was speaking just now, a little wrinkled Hot¬ 
tentot who, from my boyhood, had been the com- 
panion of my journeys and adventures, it was he 
who came with me as my after-rider when as a very 
young man I accompanied Piet Retief on that fatal 
embassy to Dingaan, the Zulu king, of whom prac¬ 
tically all except Hans and myself were massacred. 

He was a curious, witty little fellow of uncertain 
age and of his sort one of the cleverest men in Africa. 
I never knew his equal in resource oi* in following a 
spoor, but, like all Hottentots, he had his faults; thus, 
whenever he got the chance, he would drink like a 
fish and become a useless nuisance. He had his 
virtues, also, since he was faithful as a dog and well, 
he loved me as a dog loves the master that has reared 
it from a blind puppy. For me he would do any¬ 
thing—lie or steal or commit murder, and think it no 
wrong, but rather a holy duty. Yes, and any day he 
was prepared to die for me, as in the end he did. 


THE STORM 


7 


Allan paused, ostensibly to knock out his pipe, 
which was unnecessary, as he had only just filled it, 
but really, I think, to give himself a chance of turn¬ 
ing towards the fire in front of which he was stand¬ 
ing, and thus to hide his face. Presently he swung 
round upon his heel in the light, quick fashion that 
was one of his characteristics, and went on: 

I was walking in front of the wagon, keeping a 
lookout for bad places and stones in what in those 
days was by courtesy called the road, though in fact 
it was nothing but a track twisting between the 
mountains, and just behind, in his usual place—for 
he always stuck to me like a shadow—was Hans. 
Presently I heard him cough in a hollow fashion, as 
was his custom when he wanted to call my attention 
to anything, and asked over my shoulder, 

“What is it, Hans?” 

“Nothing Baas,” he answered, “only that there 
is a big storm coming up. Two storms, Baas, not 
one, and when they meet they will begin to fight and 
there will be plenty of spears flying about in the sky, 
and then both those clouds will weep rain or perhaps 
hail.” 

“Yes,” I said, “there is, but as I don’t see any¬ 
where to shelter, there is nothing to be done.” 

Hans came level with me and coughed again, 
twirling his dirty apology for a hat in his skinny 
fingers, thereby intimating that he had a suggestion 
to make. . 

“Many years ago, Baas,” he said, pointing with his 
chin towards a mass of tumbled stones at the foot of 
a mountain slope about a mile to our left, “there used 
to be a big cave yonder, for once when I was a boy 
I sheltered in it with some Bushmen. It was after 
the Zulus had cleaned out Natal and there was noth- 


8 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

mg to eat in the land, so that the people who were 
left fed upon one another.” 

“Then how did the Bushmen live, Hans?” 

“On slugs and grasshoppers, for the most part, 
Baas, and buck when they were lucky enough to kill 
any with their poisoned arrows. Fried caterpillars 
are not bad, Baas, nor are locusts when you can get 
nothing else. I remember that I, who was starving, 
grew fat on them.” 

“You mean that we had better make for this cave 
of yours, Hans, if you are sure it’s there?” 

“Yes, Baas, caves can’t run away, and though it is 
many years ago, I don’t forget a place where I have 
lived for two months.” 

I looked at those advancing clouds and reflected. 
They were uncommonly black and evidently there 
was going to be the devil of a storm. Moreover, the 
situation was not pleasant for we were crossing a 
patch of ironstone on which, as I knew from ex¬ 
perience, lightning always strikes, and a wagon and 
a team of oxen have an attraction for electric flashes. 

While I was reflecting a party of Kaffirs came up 
from behind, running for all they were worth, no 
doubt to seek shelter. They were dressed in their 
finery—evidently people going to or returning from 
a wedding-feast, young men and girls, most of them— 
and as they went by one of them shouted to me, 
whom evidently he knew, as did most of the natives in 
those parts, “Hurry, hurry, Macumazahn!” as you 
know the Zulus called me. “Hurry, this place is be¬ 
loved of lightnings,” and he pointed with his dancing 
stick first to the advancing tempest and then to the 
ground where the ironstone cropped up. 

That decided me, and running back to the wagon 
I told the voorlooper to follow Hans, and the driver 
to flog up the oxen. Then I scrambled in behind and 




THE STORM 


9 


off we went, turning to the left and heading for the 
place at the foot of the slope where Hans said the 
cave was. Luckily the ground was fairly flat and 
open—hard, too; moreover, although he had not 
been there for so many years, Hans’s memory of the 
spot was perfect. Indeed, as he said, it was one of 
his characteristics never to forget any place that he 
had once visited. 

Thus, from the driving box to which I had climbed, 
suddenly I saw him direct the voorlooper to bear 
sharply to the right and could not imagine why, as 
the surface there seemed similar to that over which 
we were travelling. As we passed it, however, I 
perceived the reason, for here was a ground spring 
which turned a large patch of an acre or more into a 
swamp, where certainly we should have been bogged. 
It was the same with other obstacles that I need not 
detail. 

By now a great stillness pervaded the air and the 
gloom grew so thick that the front oxen looked 
shadowy; also it became very cold. The lightning 
continued to play upon the mountain crests, but still 
there was no thunder. There was something fright¬ 
ening and unnatural in the aspect of nature; even the 
cattle felt it, for they strained at the yokes and went 
off very fast indeed, without the urgings of whip or 
shouts, as though they too knew they were flying 
from peril. Doubtless they did, since instinct has 
its voices which speak to everything that breathes. 
For my part, my nerves became affected and I hoped 
earnestly that we should soon reach that cave. 

Presently I hoped it still more, for at length those 
clouds met and from their edges as they kissed each 
other came an awful burst of fire—perhaps it was a 
thunderbolt—that rushed down and struck the earth 
with a loud detonation. At any rate, it caused the 


IO HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

ground to shake and me to wish that I were any- 
where else, for it fell within fifty yards of the wagon, 
exactly where we had been a minute or so before. 
Simultaneously there was a most awful crash of 
thunder, showing that the tempest now lay imme¬ 
diately overhead. f f „ . c ,, 

This was the opening of the ball; the first sudden 
burst of music. Then the dance began with sheets 
and forks of flame for dancers and the great sky for 
the floor upon which they performed. 

It is difficult to describe such a hellish tempest 
because, as you, my friend, who have seen them, will 
know, they are beyond description. Lightnings, 
everywhere lightnings; flash upon flash of them of all 
shapes—one, I remember, looked like a crown of 
fire encircling the brow of a giant cloud. Moreover, 
they seemed to leap upwards from the earth as well 
as downwards from the heaven, to the accompani¬ 
ment of one continuous roar of thunder. 

“Where the deuce is your cave?” I yelled into the 
ear of Hans, who had climbed on to the driving box 
beside me. 

He shrieked something in answer which I could not 
catch because of the tumult, and pointed to the base 
of the mountain slope, now about two hundred yards 
away. 

The oxen skrecked and began to gallop, causing 
the wagon to bump and sway so that I thought it 
would overset, and the voorlooper to leave hold of the 
reim and run alongside of them for fear lest he should 
be trodden to death, guiding them as best he could, 
which was not well. Luckily, however, they ran in the 
right direction. 

On we tore, the driver plying his whip to keep the 
beasts straight, and as I could see from the motion of 
his lips, swearing his hardest in Dutch and Zulu, 


II 


THE STORM 

though not a word reached my ears. At length they 
were brought to a halt by the steep slope of the moun¬ 
tain and proceeded to turn round and tie themselves 
into a kind of knot after the fashion of frightened 
oxen that for any reason can no longer pull their 
load. 

We leapt down and began to outspan them, 
getting the yokes off as quickly as we could—no easy 
job, I can tell you, both because of the mess in which 
they were and for the reason that it must be carried 
out literally under fire, since the flashes were falling- 
all about us. Momentarily I expected that one of 
them would catch the wagon and make an end of us 
and our story. Indeed, I was so frightened that I 
was sorely tempted to leave the oxen to their fate and 
bolt to the cave, if cave there were—for I could see 

However, pride came to my aid, for if I ran 
away, how could I ever expect my Kaffirs to stand 
again in a difficulty? Be as much afraid as you like, 
but never show fear before a native; if you do, your 
influence over him is gone. You are no longer the 
great White Chief of higher blood and breeding; you 
are just a common fellow like himself; inferior to 
himself, indeed, if he chances to be a brave specimen 
of a people among whom most of the men are brave. 

So I pretended to take no heed of the lightnings, 
even when one struck a thorn tree not more than 
thirty paces away. I happened to be looking in that 
direction and saw the thorn in the flare, every bough 
of it. Next second all I saw was a column of dust; 
the thorn had gone and one of its splinters hit my 
hat 

With the others I tugged and kicked at the oxen, 
getting the thongs off the yoke-skeis as best I could, 
till at length all were loose and galloping away to 


12 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

seek shelter under overhanging rocks or where they 
could in accordance with their instincts. The last 
two, the pole oxen—valuable beasts—were particu¬ 
larly difficult to free, as they were trying to follow 
their brethren and strained at the yokes so much that 
in the end I had to cut the rimpis , as I could not get 
them out of the notches of the yoke-skeis . Then 
they tore off after the others, but did not get far, poor 
brutes, for presently I saw both of them—they were 
running together—go down as though they were shot 
through the heart. A flash had caught them; one of 
them never stirred again; the other lay on its back 
kicking for a few seconds and then grew as still as its 
yoke-mate. 

“And what did you say?” inquired Good in a 
reflective voice. 

“What would you have said, Good?” asked Allan 
severely, “if you had lost your best two oxen in such 
a fashion, and happened not to have a sixpence with 
which to buy others? Well, we all know your 
command of strong language, so I do not think I 
need ask you to answer.” 

“I should have said-” began Good, bracing 

himself to the occasion, but Allan cut him short with 
a wave of his hand. 

“Something about Jupiter Tonans, no doubt,” he 
said. 

Then he went on. 

Well, what I said was only overheard by the re¬ 
cording angel, though perhaps Hans guessed it, for he 
screamed at me, 

“It might have been us, Baas. When the sky is 
angry, it will have something; better the oxen than 
us, Baas.” 


THE STORM 13 

“The cave, you idiot!” I roared. “Shut your 
mouth and take us to the cave, if there is one, for 
here comes the hail.” 

Hans grinned and nodded, then hastened by a 
large hailstone which hit him on the head, began to 
skip up the hill at a surprising rate, beckoning to the 
rest of us to follow. Presently we came to a tumbled 
pile of rocks through which we dodged and scrambled 
in the gloom that now, when the hail had begun to 
fall, was denser than ever between the flashes. At 
the back of the biggest of these rocks Hans dived 
among some bushes, dragging me after him between 
two stones that formed a kind of natural gateway 
to a cavity beyond. 

“This is the place, Baas,” he said, wiping the blood 
that ran down his forehead from a cut in the head 
made by the hailstone. 

As he spoke, a particularly vivid flash showed me 
that we were in the mouth of a cavern of unknown 
size. That it must be large, however, I guessed 
from the echoes of the thunder that followed the 
flash, which seemed to reverberate in that hollow 
place from unmeasured depths in the bowels of the 
mountain. 


CHAPTER II 
The Picture in the Cave 

We did not reach the cave too soon, for as the boys 
scrambled into it after us the hail began to come 
down in earnest, and you fellows know, or at any 
rate have heard, what African hail can be, especially 
among the mountains of the Berg. I have known 
it to go through sheets of galvanized iron like rifle 
bullets, and really I believe that some of the stones 
which fell on this occasion would have pierced two of 
them put together, for they were as big as flints and 
jagged at that. If anybody had been caught in that 
particular storm on the open veldt without a wagon to 
creep under or a saddle to put over his head, I doubt 
whether he would have lived to see a clear sky again. 

The driver, who was already almost weeping with 
distress over the loss of Kaptein and Deutchmann, as 
the two pole oxen were named, grew almost crazed 
because he thought that the hail would kill the others, 
and actually wanted to run out into it with the wild 
idea of herding them into some shelter. I told him 
to sit still and not be a fool, since we could do nothing 
to help them. Hans, who had a habit of growing 
religious when there was lightning about, remarked 
sententiously that he had no doubt that the Great- 
Great” in the sky would look after the cattle since my 
Reverend Father (who had converted him to the 
peculiar faith, or mixture of faiths, which, with Hans, 
passed for Christianity) had told him that the cattle 


i5 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 

on a thousand hills were His especial property, and, 
here in the Berg, were they not among the thousand 
hills ? The Zulu driver who had not “ found religion,” 
but was just a raw savage, replied with point that if 
that were so the “Great-Great” might have pro¬ 
tected Kaptein and Deutchmann, which He had 
clearly neglected to do. Then, after the fashion of 
some furious woman, by way of relieving his nerves, 
he fell to abusing Hans, whom he called “a yellow 
jackal,” adding that the tail of the worst of the oxen 
was of more value than his whole body, and that he 
wished his worthless skin were catching the hailstones 
instead of their inestimable hides. 

These nasty remarks about his personal appearance 
irritated Hans, who drew up his lips as does an angry 
dog, and replied in suitable language, which in¬ 
volved reflections upon that Zulu’s family, and 
especially on his mother. In short, had I not inter¬ 
vened there would have been a very pretty row that 
might have ended in a blow from a kerry or a knife 
thrust. This, however, I did with vigour, saying 
that he who spoke another word should be kicked 
out of the cave to keep company with the hail and 
the lightning, after which peace was restored. 

That storm went on for a long while, for after it 
had seemed to go away it returned again, travelling 
in a circle as such tempests sometimes do, and when 
the hail was finished, it was followed by torrential 
rain. The result was that by the time the thunder 
had ceased to roar and echo among the mountain-tops 
darkness was at hand, so it became evident that we 
must stop where we were for the night, especially as 
the boys, who had gone out to look for the oxen, 
reported that they could not find them. This was 
not pleasant, as the cave was uncommonly cold and 
the wagon was too soaked with the rain to sleep in. 


16 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Here, however, once more Hans’s memory came in 
useful. Having borrowed my matches, he crept off 
down the cave and presently returned, dragging a 
quantity of wood after him, dusty and worm-eaten- 
looking wood, but dry and very suitable for firing. 

“Where did you get that?” I asked. 

“Baas,” he replied, “when I lived in this place 
with the Bushmen, long before those black children” 
(this insult referred to the driver and the voorlooper, 
Mavoon and Induka by name) “were begotten of 
their unknown fathers, I hid away a great stock of 
wood for the winter, or in case I should ever come 
back here, and there it is still, covered with stones 
and dust. The ants that run about the ground do the 
same thing, Baas, that their children may have food 
when they are dead. So now if those Kaffirs will 
help me to get the wood we may have a good fire and 
be warm.” 

Marvelling at the little Hottentot’s foresight that 
was bred into his blood by the necessities of a hun¬ 
dred generations of his forefathers, I bade the others 
to accompany him to the cache, which they did, 
glowering, with the result that presently we had a 
glorious fire. Then I fetched some food, for luckily 
I had killed a Duiker buck that morning, the flesh 
of which we toasted on the embers, and with it a 
bottle of Square-face from the wagon, so that soon we 
were eating a splendid dinner. I know that there are 
many who do not approve of giving spirits to natives, 
but for my part I have found that when they are 
chilled and tired a “tot” does them no harm and 
wonderfully improves their tempers. The trouble 
was to prevent Hans from getting more than one, to 
do which I made a bedfellow of that bottle of Square- 
face. 

When we were filled I lit my pipe and began to talk 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


17 

with Hans, whom the grog had made loquacious and 
therefore interesting. He asked me how old the 
cave was, and I told him that it was as old as the 
mountains of the Berg. He answered that he had 
thought so because there were footprints stamped 
in the rock floor farther down it, and turned to stone, 
which were not made by any beasts that he had ever 
heard of or seen, which footprints he would show me 
on the morrow if I cared to look at them. Further, 
that there were queer bones lying about, also turned 
to stone, that he thought must have belonged to 
giants. He believed that he could find some of these 
bones when the sun shone into the cave in the early 
morning. 

Then I explained to Hans and the Kaffirs how once, 
thousands of thousands of years ago, before there 
were any men in the world, great creatures had lived 
there, huge elephants and reptiles as large as a hun¬ 
dred crocodiles made into one, and, as I had been told, 
enormous apes, much bigger than any gorilla. They 
were very interested, and Hans said that it was quite 
true about the apes, since he had seen a picture of one 
of them, or of a giant that looked like an ape. 

“Where?” I asked. “In a book?” 

“No, Baas, here in this cave. The Bushmen made 
it ten thousand years ago.” By which he meant at 
some indefinite time in the past. 

Now I bethought me of a fabulous creature called 
the Ngoloko which was said to inhabit an undefined 
area of swamps on the East Coast and elsewhere. 
This animal, in which, I may add, I did not in the 
least believe, for I set it down as a native bogey, was 
supposed to be at least eight feet high, to be covered 
with gray hair and to have a claw in the place of toes. 
My chief authority for it was a strange old Portuguese 
hunter whom I had once known, who swore that he 


18 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

had seen its footprints in the mud, also that it had 
killed one of his men and twisted the head oft his 
body. I asked Hans if he had ever heard of it. He 
replied that he had, under another name, that of 
Milhoy , I think, but that the devil painted in the 
cave was larger than that. 

Now I thought that he was pitching me a yarn, as 
natives will, and said that if so he had better show 
me the picture forthwith. 

“Best wait until the sun shines in the morning, 
Baas,” he replied, “for then the light will be good. 
Also this devil is not nice to look at at nighty. 

“Show it me,” I repeated with asperity; “we have 
lanterns from the wagon.” 

So, somewhat unwillingly, Hans led the way up 
the cave for fifty paces or more, for the place was 
very big, he carrying one lantern and I another, 
while the two Zulus followed with candles in their 
hands. As we went I saw that on the walls there 
were many Bushmen paintings, also one or two of the 
carvings of this strange people. Some of these paint¬ 
ings seemed quite fresh, while others were faded or 
perhaps the ochre used by the primitive artist had 
flaked off. They were of the usual character, draw¬ 
ings of elands and other buck being hunted by men 
who shot at them with arrows; also of elephants and 
a lion charging at some spearmen. 

One, however, which oddly enough was the best 
preserved of any of the collection, excited me enor¬ 
mously. It represented men whose faces were 
painted white and who seemed to wear a kind of 
armour and queer pointed caps upon their heads, of 
the sort that I believe are known as Phrygian, attack¬ 
ing a native kraal of which the reed fence was clearly 
indicated, as were the round huts behind. More¬ 
over, to the left some of these men were dragging 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


19 


away women to what from a series of wavy lines, 
looked like a rude representation of the sea. 

I stared and gasped, for surely here before me was 
a picture of Phoenicians carrying out one of their 
women-hunting raids, as ancient writers tell us it was 
their habit to do. And if so, that picture must have 
been painted by a Bushman who lived at least two 
thousand years ago, and possibly more. The thing 
was amazing. Hans, however, did not seem to be 
interested, but pushed on as though to finish a dis¬ 
agreeable task, and I was obliged to follow him, 
fearing lest I should be lost in the recesses of that 
vast cave. 

Presently he came to a crevice in the side of the 
cavern which I should have passed unnoticed, as it 
was exactly like many others. 

“Here is the place, Baas,” he said, “just as it 
used to be. Now follow me and be careful where 
you step, for there are cracks in the floor.” 

So I squeezed myself into the opening where, 
although I am not very large, there was barely room 
for me to pass. Within its lips was a narrow tunnel, 
either cut out by water or formed by the rush of 
explosive gases hundreds of thousands of years ago— 
I think the latter, as the roof, which was not more 
than eight or nine feet from the floor, had sharp 
points and roughnesses that showed no water-wear. 
But as I have not the faintest idea how these great 
African caves were formed, I will not attempt to 
discuss the matter. This floor, however, was quite 
smooth, as though for many generations it had been 
worn by the feet of men, which no doubt was the 
case. 

When we had crept ten or twelve paces down the 
tunnel, Hans called to me to stand quite still—not 
to move on any account. I obeyed him, wondering, 


20 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

and by the light of my lantern saw him lift his own, 
which had a loop of hide fastened through the tin 
eye at the top of it for convenience in hanging it up 
in the wagon, and set it, or rather the hide loop, 
round his neck, so that it hung upon his back. Then 
he flattened himself against the side of the cavern 
with his face to the wall as though he did not wish to 
see what was behind him, and cautiously crept for¬ 
ward with sidelong steps, gripping the roughnesses in 
the rock with his hands. When he had gone some 
twenty or thirty feet in this crab-like fashion, he 
turned and said, . 

“Now, Baas, you must do as I did/ 

“Why?” I asked. „ 

“Hold down the lantern and you will see, Baas. 

I did so, and perceived that a pace or two farther on 
there was a great chasm in the floor of the tunnel of 
unknown depth, since the lamplight did not penetrate 
to its bottom. Also I noted that the ledge at the 
side that formed the bridge by which Hans had 
passed, was nowhere more than twelve inches, and in 
some places less than six inches wide. 

“Is it deep?” I asked. 

By way of answer Hans found a bit of broken rock 
and threw it into the gulf. I listened, and it was quite 
a long while before I heard it strike below. 

“I told the Baas,” said Hans in a superior tone, 
“that he had better wait until to-morrow when some 
light comes down this hole, but the Baas would not 
listen to me and doubtless he knows best. Now 
would the Baas like to go back to bed, as I think wis¬ 
est, and return to-morrow?” 

If the truth were known there was nothing that I 
should have liked better, for the place was detestable. 
But I was in such a rage with Hans for playing me 
this trick that even if I thought that I was going to 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


21 


break my neck I would not give him the pleasure of 
mocking me in his sly way. 

"No,” I answered quietly, “I will go to bed when 
I have seen this picture you talk about, and not 
before/ 5 

Now Hans grew alarmed and begged me in good 
earnest not to try to cross the gulf, which reminded 
me vaguely of the parable of Abraham and Dives in 
the Bible, with myself playing the part of Dives, 
except that I was not thirsty, and Hans did not in any 
way resemble Abraham. 

“I see how it is,” I said, “there is not any picture 
and you are simply playing one of your monkey 
tricks on me. Well, I’m coming to look, and if I find 
you have been telling lies I'll make you sorry for 
yourself/ 5 

“The picture is there or was when I was young,” ^ 
answered Hans sullenly, “and for the rest, the Baas 
knows best. If he breaks every bone in his body 
presently, don’t let him blame me, and I pray that 
he will tell the truth, all of it, to his Reverend Father 
in the sky who left him in my charge, saying that 
Hans begged him not to come but that because of his 
evil temper he would not listen. Meanwhile, the Baas 
had better take off his boots, since the feet of those 
Bushmen whose spooks I feel all about me have made 
the ledge very slippery.” 

In silence I sat down and removed my boots, think¬ 
ing to myself that I would gladly give all my savings 
that were on deposit in the bank at Durban, to be 
spared this ordeal. What a strange thing is the white 
man’s pride, especially if he be of the Anglo-Saxon 
breed, or what passes by that name. There was no 
need for me to take this risk, yet, rather than be 
secretly mocked at by Hans and those Kaffirs, here I 
was about to do so just for pride’s sake. In my 


22 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

heart I cursed Hans and the cave and the hole and the 
picture and the thunderstorm that brought me there, 
and everything else I could remember. Then, as it had 
no strap like that of Hans, although it smelt horribly, 

I tock the tin loop of my lantern in my teeth because 
it seamed the only thing to do, put up a silent but 
most earnest prayer, and started as though 1 liked 

the job. , , . . 

To tell the truth, I remember little of that journey 
except that it seemed to take about three hours in¬ 
stead of under a minute, and the voices of woe and 
lamentation from the two Zulus behind, who insisted 
upon bidding me a tender farewell as I proceeded, 
amidst other demonstrations of affection, calling me 
their father and their mother for four generations. 

Somehow I wriggled myself along that accursed 
ridge, shoving my stomach as hard as I could against 
the wall of the passage as though this organ possessed 
some prehensile quality, and groping for knobs ol 
rock on which I broke two of my nails. However, 1 
did get over all right, although just towards the end 
one of my feet slipped and I opened my mouth to 
say something, with the result that the lantern fell into 
the abyss, taking with it a loose front tooth. But 
Hans stretched out his skinny hand, and, meaning, to 
catch me by the coat collar, got hold of my left ear, 
and, thus painfully supported, I came to firm ground 
and cursed him into heaps. Although some might 
have thought my language pointed, he did not re¬ 
sent it in the least, being too delighted at my sale 

arrival. ( . 

“Never mind the tooth, Baas, he said. . it is 
best that it should be gone without knowing it, as it 
were, because you see you can now eat crusts and 
hard biltong again, which you have not been able to 
do for months. The lantern, however, is another 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 23 

matter, though perhaps we can get a new one at Pre¬ 
toria or wherever we go.” 

Recovering myself, I peered over the edge of the 
abyss. There, far, far below, I saw my lantern, 
which was of a sort that burns oil, flaring upon a bed 
of something white, for the container had burst and 
all the oil was on fire. 

“What is that white stuff down there?” I asked. 
“Lime?” 

“No, Baas, it is the broken bones of men. Once 
when I was young, with the help of the Bushmen, I 
let myself down by a rope that we twisted out of 
rushes and buckskins, just to look, Baas. There is 
another cave underneath this one, Baas, but I didn’t 
go into it because I was frightened.” 

“And how did all those bones come there, Hans? 
Why, there must be hundreds of them!” 

“Yes, Baas, many hundreds, and they came this 
way. Since the beginning of the world the Bushmen 
lived in this cave and set a trap here by laying 
branches over the hole and covering them with dust 
so that they looked like rock, just as one makes a 
game pit, Baas—yes, they did this until the last of 
them were killed not so long ago by the Boers and 
Zulus, whose sheep and beasts they stole. Then 
when their enemies attacked them, which was often, 
for it has always been right to kill Bushmen—they 
would run down the cave and into the cleft and creep 
along the narrow edge of rock, which they could do 
with their eyes shut. But the silly Kaffirs, or who¬ 
ever it might be, running after them to kill them 
would fall through the branches and get killed them¬ 
selves. They must have done this quite often, Baas, 
since there are such a lot of their skulls down there, 
many of them quite black with age and turned to 
stone.” 


24 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“One might have thought that the Kaffirs would 
have grown wiser, Hans.” 

“Yes, Baas, but the dead keep their wisdom to 
themselves, for I believe that when all the attackers 
were in the passage, then other Bushmen, who had 
been hiding in the cave, came up behind and shot 
them with poisoned arrows and drove them on into 
the hole so that none went back; indeed, theJBush- 
men told me that this used to be their fathers’ plan. 
Also, if any did escape, in a generation or two all was 
forgotten, and the same thing happened again be¬ 
cause, Baas, there are always plenty of fools in the 
world and the fool who comes after is just as big as 
the fool who went before. Death spills the water of 
wisdom upon the sand, Baas, and sand is thirsty stuff 
that soon grows dry again. If it were not so, Baas, 
men would soon stop falling in love with women, 
and yet even great ones—like you, Baas—fall in love. 

Having delivered this thrust, in order to prevent 
the possibility of answer Hans began to chat with 
the driver and the voorlooper on the other side of the 
gulf. „ 

“Be quick and come over, you brave Zulus there,” 
lie said, “for you are keeping your Chief waiting 
and me also.” 

The Zulus, holding their candles forward, peered 
into the pit below. 

“Ozv!” said one of them, “are we bats that we 
can fly over a hole like that or baboons that we can 
climb on a shelf no wider than a spear, or flies that 
we can walk upon a wall? Ozv! we are not coming, 
we will wait here. That road is only for yellow 
monkeys like you or for those who have the white 
man’s magic like the Inkoos Macumazahn.” 

“No,” replied Hans reflectively, “you are none of 
these creatures which are all of them good in their 


THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


25 

way. You are just a couple of low-born Kaffir 
cowards, black skins blown up to look like men. I, 
the 'yellow jackal/ can walk the gulf, and the Baas 
can walk the gulf, but you, Windbags, cannot even 
float over it for fear lest you should burst in the mid¬ 
dle. Well, Windbags, float back to the wagon and 
fetch the coil of small rope that is in the voorkissie y 
for we may want it.” 

One of them replied in a humbled voice that they 
did not take orders from him, a Hottentot, whereon 
I said, / 

"Go and fetch the rope and return at once.” 

So they went with a dejected air, for Hans's winged 
words had gone home, and again they learned that 
at the end he always got the best of a quarrel. The 
truth is that they were as brave as men can be, but 
no Zulu is any good underground and least of all in 
the dark in a place that he thinks haunted. 

"Now, Baas,” said Hans, "we will go and look at 
the picture—that is, unless you are quite sure I am 
lying and that there is no picture, in which case it is 
not worth while to take the trouble, and you had 
better sit here and cut your broken nails until Ma- 
voon and Induka come back with the rope.” 

"Oh, get on, you poisonous little vermin!” I said, 
exasperated by his jeers, emphasizing my words with 
a tremendous kick. 

Here, however, I made a great mistake, since I 
had forgotten that at the moment I lacked boots, and 
either Hans carried a collection of hard articles in 
the seat of his filthy trousers or his posterior was of 
a singularly stonelike nature. In short, I hurt my 
toes most abominably and him not at all. 

"Ah, Baas,” said Hans with a sweet smile, “you 
should remember what your Reverend Father taught 
me: always to put on your boots before you kick 


26 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

against the thorn pricks. I have a gimlet and some 
nails in my pistol pocket, Baas, that I was using this 
morning to mend that box of yours.” 

Then he bolted incontinently lest I should experi¬ 
ment on his head and see if there were nails in that 
also, and as he had the only lantern, I was obliged to 
limp, or rather to hop, after him. 

The passage, of which the floor was still worn 
smooth by thousands of dead feet, went on straight 
for eight or ten paces and then bent to the right. 
When we came to this elbow in it I saw a light ahead 
of me which I could not understand till presently I 
found myself standing in a kind of pit or funnel—it 
may have measured some thirty feet across—that 
rose from the level at which we stood, right through 
the strata to the mountain-side eighty or a hundred 
feet above us. What had formed it thus I cannot 
conceive, but there it was—a funnel, as I have said, 
in shape exactly like those that are used when beer is 
poured into barrels or port wine into a decanter, the 
place on which we were, being, of course, its narrower 
end. The light that I had seen came, therefore, from 
the sky, which, now that the tempest had passed 
away, was clean-washed and beautiful, sown with 
stars also, for at the moment a dense black cloud 
remaining from the storm hid the moon, now just 
past its full. 

For a little way, perhaps five-and-twenty feet, the 
sides of this tunnel were almost sheer, after which 
they sloped outwards steeply to the mouth of the pit 
in the mountain flank. One other peculiarity I 
noticed—namely, that on the western face of the 
tunnel which, as it chanced, was in front of us as we 
stood, just where it began to expand, projected a 
sloping ridge of rock like to the roof of a lean-to shed, 
which ridge ran right across this face. 




THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


27 

“Well, Hans,” I said, when I had inspected this 
strange natural cavity, “where is your picture? I 
don’t see it.” 

“Wacht een beetje” (that is, “Wait a bit”), “Baas. 
The moon is climbing up that cloud; presently she 
will get to the top of it and then you will see the 
picture, unless someone has rubbed it out since I 
was young.” 

I turned to look at the cloud -and to witness a sight 
of which I never have grown tired: the uprising of 
the glorious African moon out of her secret halls of 
blackness. Already silver rays of light were shooting 
across the vastness of the firmament, causing the 
stars to pale. Then suddenly her bent edge ap¬ 
peared and with extraordinary swiftness grew and 
grew till the whole splendid orb emerged from a bed 
of inky vapour and for a while rested on its marge, 
perfect, wonderful! In an instant our hole was filled 
with light so strong and clear that by it I could have 
read a letter. 

For a few moments I stood thrilled with the beauty 
of the scene, and forgetting all else in its contempla¬ 
tion, till Hans said with a hoarse cackle, 

“Now turn round, Baas, and look at the pretty 
picture.” 

I did so, and followed the line of his outstretched 
hand, which pointed to that face of the rock with the 
pent roof that looked towards the east. Next second 
—my friends, I am not exaggerating—I nearly fell 
backwards. Have any of you fellows ever had a 
nightmare in which you dreamed you were in hell and 
suddenly met the devil tete-a-tete, all by your little 
selves? At any rate, I have, and there in front of 
me was the devil, only much worse than fond fancy 
can paint him even with the brush of the acutest 
indigestion. 


28 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Imagine a monster double life size—that is to say, 
eleven or twelve feet high—brilliantly portrayed in 
the best ochres of which these Bushmen have always 
had the secret, namely, white, red, black, and yellow, 
and with eyes formed apparently of polished lumps of 
rock crystal. Imagine this thing as a huge ape to 
which the biggest gorilla would be but a child, and 
yet not an ape but a man, and yet not a man, but a 
fiend. 

It was covered with hair like an ape, long gray hair 
that grew in tufts. It had a great red, bushy beard 
like a man; its limbs were tremendous, the arms 
being of abnormal length like to the arms of a gorilla, 
but, mark this, it had no fingers, only a great claw 
where the thumb should be. The rest of the hand 
was all grown together into one piece like a duck’s 
foot, although what should have been the finger part 
was flexible and could grip like fingers, as shall be 
seen. 

At least, that is what the picture suggested, though 
it occurred to me afterwards that it might represent 
the creature as wearing fingerless gloves such as men 
in this country use when cutting fences. The feet 
however, which were certainly shown as bare, were 
the same; I mean that there were no toes, only one 
terrible claw where the big toe should be. The 
carcass was enormous; supposing it to have been 
drawn from life, the original, I should guess, would 
have weighed at least thirty stone; the chest was 
vast, indicating gigantic strength, and the paunch 
beneath wrinkled and protuberant. But—and here 
came one of the human touches—about its middle 
the thing wore a moocha or, rather, a hide tied round 
it by the leg skins, which hide seemed to have been 
dressed. 

So much for the body. Now for the head and face. 




THE PICTURE IN THE CAVE 


29 


These I know not how to describe, but I will try. The 
neck was as that of a bull, and perched horribly on 
the top of it was a quite small head, which—notwith¬ 
standing the great red beard whereof I have spoken 
that grew upon the chin, and a wide mouth from 
whose upper jaw projected yellow tushes like to those 
of a baboon that hung over the lower lip—was 
curiously feminine in appearance; indeed, that of an 
old, old she-devil with an aquiline nose. The brow, 
however, was disproportionate to the rest of the face, 
being prominent, massive, and not unintellectual, 
while set deep in it and unnaturally far apart were 
those awful glaring crystal eyes. 

That was not all, for the creature seemed to be 
laughing cruelly, and the drawing showed why it 
laughed. One of its feet was set upon the body of 
a man into which the great claw was driven deep. 
One of its hands held the head of the man, that evi¬ 
dently it had just twisted from the body. The other 
hand grasped by the hair a living naked girl badly 
drawn, as though this detail had not interested the 
artist, whom apparently it was about to drag away. 

“ Isn’t it a pretty picture, Baas?” sniggered Hans. 
“Now the Baas will not say that I tell lies, no, not for 
quite a week.” 


CHAPTER III 
The Opener-of-Roads 

I stared and stared, then was overcome with faint¬ 
ness and sat down upon the ground. 

I see you laughing at me, young man [this was 
addressed to me, the recorder of the tale] who no 
doubt have already decided that this drawing was 
the work of some imaginative Bushman who had gone 
mad and set down upon the rock the hellish dream of 
a mind diseased. Of course, that was the conclusion 
I came to myself next morning, though afterwards I 
changed my opinion, but at the time it did not strike 
me like that. 

The place was lonesome and eerie, a horrible place 
with the pit full of bones near by; heavily silent also 
except for a distant hyena or jackal howling at the 
moon, and I had gone through some trials that day— 
the passage of the death-pit, for instance, which • 
reminded me of the oubliettes in ancient Norman 
castles that I have read of down which prisoners were 
hurled to doom. Also, as you may have observed, 
even in your short career, moonlight differs from sun¬ 
light and we, or some of us, are much more affected 
by horrible things at night than we are by day. At 
any rate, I sat down because I felt faint and thought 
that I was going to be ill. 

“What is it, Baas?” queried the observant Hans, 
still mocking. “If you want to be sick, Baas, please 
don’t mind me, for I’ll turn my back. I remember 
30 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 


3 i 


that I was sick myself when first I saw Heu-Heu— 
just there/’ he added reminiscently, pointing to a 
certain spot. 

“Why do you call that thing ‘Heu-Heu,’ Hans?” 
I asked, trying to master the reflex action of my 
interior arrangements. 

“Because that is his nice name, Baas, given him 
by his Mammie when he was little, perhaps.” 

(Here I nearly was sick, the idea of that creature 
with a mother almost finished me—liLe the sight and 
smell of a bit of fat bacon in a gale at sea.) 

“How do you know that?” I gurgled. 

“Because the Bushmen told me, Baas. They said 
that their fathers, a thousand years ago, knew this 
Heu-Heu far away, and that they left that part of the 
country because of him as they never slept well at 
night there, just like a Boer when another Boer comes 
and builds a house within six miles of him, Baas. I 
think they meant that they heard Heu-Heu when he 
talked, for they told me that their great-great-grand¬ 
fathers could hear him doing it and beating his breast 
when he was miles away. But I daresay they lied, 
for I don’t believe they really knew anything about 
Heu-Heu, or who painted his portrait on the rock, 
Baas.” 

“No,” I answered, “nor do I. Well, Hans, I think 
I have had enough of your friend Heu-Heu for this 
evening, and should like to go back to bed.” 

“Yes, Baas, so should I, Baas. Still, take another 
good look at him before you leave. You don’t see a 
picture like that every night, Baas, and you know 
you wanted to come.” 

Now I would have kicked Hans again, but luckily 
I remembered those nails in his pocket in time, so, 
after one lingering glance, I only rose and loftily 
motioned to him to lead on. 


32 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

This was the last that I saw of the likeness of Heu- 
Heu or Beelzebub, or whoever the monster may have 
been. Somehow, although I intended to return to 
examine it more closely by the light of day, when 
morning came I thought that I would not risk another 
scramble over that ledge but would be satisfied with 
the memory of first impressions. These they say, are 
always the best—like first kisses, as Hans added 
when I explained this to him. 

Not that I could forget Heu-Heu; on the contrary, 
it is not too much to say that this devilish creature 
haunted me. I could not dismiss that picture as 
some mere flight of distorted savage imagination. 
From a hundred characteristics I knew or thought I 
knew it, erroneously as I now believe, to be Bush¬ 
men’s work and was certain that no Bushman, even 
if he had delirium tremens —not a complaint from which 
these people ever suffered, because they lacked the 
opportunity of doing so, could have evolved this 
monstrous creation out of his own soul—if a Bushman 
has a soul. No, Bushman or not, that artist was 
drawing something that he had seen, or thought that 
he had seen. 

Of this there were several indications. Thus, on 
Heu-Heu’s right arm the elbow joint was much 
swollen as though he had once suffered an injury there. 
Again, the claw of one of his horrible hands—the 
left, I think—was broken and divided at the point. 
Further, there was a wart or protuberance upon the 
brow, just beneath where the long iron-gray tufts of 
hair parted in the middle and hung down on each 
side of the demoniacal, womanish face. Now the 
painter must have remembered these blemishes and 
set them down faithfully, copying from some original, 
real or imagined. Certainly, I reflected, he would 
not have invented them. 


33 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 

Where, then, did he get his model? I have men¬ 
tioned that I had heard rumours of creatures called 
Ngolokos , which I took it, if they existed at all, were 
peculiarly terrific apes of an unknown variety. Heu- 
Heu, then, might be a most distinguished and im¬ 
proved specimen of these apes. Yet that could 
scarcely be, for this beast was more man than mon¬ 
key, notwithstanding his huge claws where the thumbs 
and big toes should be. Or perhaps I should say 
that he was more devil than either. 

Another idea occurred to me: he might have been 
the god of these Bushmen, only I never heard that 
they had any god except their own stomachs. After¬ 
wards I questioned Hans on this point but he replied 
that he did not know, as the Bushmen he lived with 
in the cave had never told him anything to that effect. 
It was true, however, that they did not go to the 
place where the picture was except through fear of 
enemies, and that when they did they would not look 
or speak about it more than they could help. Per¬ 
haps, he suggested with his usual shrewdness, Heu- 
Heu might be the god of some other people with 
whom the Bushmen had nothing to do. 

Another question—when was this work executed ? 
Owing to its sheltered position the colours were still 
fairly bright, but it must have been a long while ago. 
Hans said that the Bushmen told him that they did 
not know who painted it or what it represented, but 
that it was “old, old , old!” which might mean any¬ 
thing or nothing, since to a people without writing 
five or six generations become remote antiquity. One 
thing was certain, however, that another of the paint¬ 
ings in that cave was undoubtedly old, that of the 
Phoenicians raiding a kraal of which I have spoken, 
which can scarcely have been executed since the time 
of Christ. Of this I am sure, for I examined it care- 


34 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

fully on the following morning and it was not more 
faded than that of the Monster. Further, in his 
picture a piece of the rock had scaled off just above 
the left knee, and I had noticed that the surface thus 
exposed seemed as much weathered as that of the 
surrounding rock outside the limits of the painting. 

On the other hand, it must be remembered that 
the Phoenician picture was under cover, while that of 
Heu-Heu was exposed to the air and would therefore 
age more rapidly. 

Well, all that night I dreamed of this horrid Heu- 
Heu, dreamed that he was alive and challenging me to 
fight him, dreamed that someone was calling to me to 
rescue her—it was certainly her—not him—from the 
power of the beast; dreamed that I did fight him and 
that he got me down and was about to twist my head 
off as he had done to the man in the picture, when 
something happened—I do not know what—and I 
woke up covered with perspiration and in a most piti¬ 
able fright. 

Now at the time I visited this cave I was not far 
from the borders of Zululand on one of my trading 
expeditions, the wagon being laden with blankets, 
beads, iron pots, knives, hoes, and such other articles 
as the simple savage loves, or in those days loved to 
pay for in cattle. Before the storm overtook us, 
however, I was contemplating leaving the Zulus alone 
on this trip and trying to break new ground some¬ 
where north of Pretoria among less sophisticated na¬ 
tives who might put a higher value on my wares. 
After seeing Heu-Heu, as it chanced, I changed my 
mind for two reasons. The first of these was that 
the lightning had killed my two best oxen and I 
thought that I could replace these without cash 
expenditure in Zululand, where debts were owing to 


35 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 

me that I might collect in kind. The second was 
connected with that confounded and obsessing 
Heu-Heu. I felt convinced that only one man in 
the world could tell me about this monster, if, indeed, 
there were anything to tell, namely, old Zikali, the 
wizard of the Black Kloof, the Thing-tlnat-should 
never-have-been-born , as Chaka, the great Zulu king, 
named him. 

I think that I have told you all about Zikali before, 
but in case I have not, I will say that he was the 
greatest witch doctor who ever lived in Zululand and 
the most terrible. No one knew when he was born, 
but undoubtedly he was very ancient and under his 
native name of “Opener-of-Roads” had been known 
and dreaded in the land for some generations. For 
many years, since my boyhood, indeed, he and I had 
been friends in a fashion, though of course I was 
aware that from the first he was using me for his own 
ends, as, indeed, became very clear before all was 
done and he had triumphed over and brought about 
the fall of the Zulu Royal House, which he hated. 

However, Zikali, like a wise merchant, always paid 
those who served him with a generous hand, in one 
coin or another, as he paid those he hated. My coin 
was information, either historical or concerning the 
hidden secrets of the strange land of Africa, of which, 
for all our knowledge, we white men really under¬ 
stand so little. If any one could give information 
about the picture in the cave and its origin, it would 
be Zikali, and therefore to Zikali I would go. Curi¬ 
osity about such matters, as perhaps you have 
guessed, was always one of my besetting sins. 

We had great trouble in recovering our remaining 
fourteen oxen since some of them had wandered far 
to find cover from the storm. At last, however, they 


36 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

were found uninjured except for some bruises from 
the hailstones, for it is wonderful, if they are left 
alone, how cattle manage to protect themselves against 
the forces of nature. In Africa, however, they seldom 
take shelter beneath trees during a thunderstorm, 
as is their habit here in England, perhaps because, 
such tempests being so frequent, they have inherited 
from their progenitors an instinctive knowledge that 
lightning strikes trees and kills anything that happens 
to be underneath them. At least, that is my ex¬ 
perience. 

Well, we inspanned and trekked away from that 
remarkable cave. Many years afterwards, by the 
way, when Hans was dead, I tried to find it again and 
could not. I thought that I reached the same moun¬ 
tain slope in which it was, but I suppose that I must 
have been mistaken, since in that neighbourhood 
there are multitudes of such slopes and on the one 
that I identified I could discover no trace of the cave. 

Perhaps this was because there had been a land¬ 
slide and, with the funnel-like shaft in the mountain 
side down which the moonlight poured on to the 
picture of Heu-Heu, the orifice that, it will be remem¬ 
bered, was very small,had been covered up with rocks. 
Or it may be that I was searching the wrong slope, 
not having taken my bearings sufficiently when I 
visited the place at a time of tempest and hurry. 

Further, I was pressed and, desiring to reach a cer¬ 
tain outspan before night fell, could only give about 
an hour to the quest and when it failed was obliged to 
get on. Nor have I ever met any one who was ac¬ 
quainted with this cave, so I suppose that it must 
have been known to the Bushmen and Hans only, 
dead now all of them, which is a pity because of 
the wonderful paintings that it contains or contained. 

You will remember I told you that just before the 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 37 

storm broke we were overtaken by a party of Kaffirs 
going to or returning from some feast. When we had 
gone about half a mile we found one of those Kaffirs 
again quite dead, but whether he (the body was 
that of a young man) had been killed by the lightning 
or by the hail, I was not sure. Evidently his com¬ 
panions were so frightened that they had left him 
where he lay, proposing, I suppose, to return and bury 
him later. So you will see that when it gave us 
shelter, this cave did us a good turn. 

Now I will skip all the details of my trek into Zulu- 
land, which was as are other treks, only slower, be¬ 
cause it was a hard job to get that heavily laden 
wagon along with but fourteen oxen. Once, indeed, 
we stuck in a river, the White Umfolozi, quite near to 
the Nongela Rock or Cliff which frowns above a pool 
of the river. I shall never forget that accident be¬ 
cause it caused me to be the unwilling witness of a 
very dreadful sight. 

Whilst we were fast in the drift a party of men 
appeared upon the brow of this Nongela Rock, about 
two hundred and fifty yards away, dragging with 
them two young women. Studying them through 
my glasses, I came to the conclusion from the way 
they moved their heads and stared wildly about them, 
that these young women were blind or had been 
blinded. As I looked at them, wondering what to 
do, the men seized the women by the arms and hurled 
them over the edge of the cliff. With a piteous wail 
the poor creatures rolled down the stratified rock into 
the deep pool below and there the crocodiles got them, 
for distinctly I saw the rush of the reptiles. Indeed, 
in this pool they were always on the look-out, as it was 
a favourite place of execution under the Zulu kings. 

When their horrible business was finished the party 


38 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

of “slayers”—there were about fifteen of them—came 
down to the ford to interview us. At first I thought 
there might be trouble, and to tell the truth, should 
not have been sorry, for the sight of this butchery had 
made me furious and reckless. As soon as they found 
out, however, that the wagon belonged to me, Macu- 
mazahn, they were all amiability, and wading into the 
water, tackled on to the wheels, with the result that 
by their help we came safe to the farther bank. 

There I asked their leader who the two murdered 
girls might be. He replied that they were the daugh¬ 
ters of Panda, the King. I did not question this 
statement although, knowing Panda’s kindly charac¬ 
ter, I doubted very much whether they were actually 
his children. Then I asked why they were blind, and 
what crime they had committed. The captain re¬ 
plied that they had been blinded by the order of 
Prince Cetywayo, who even then was the real ruler 
of Zululand, because “they had looked where they 
should not.” 

Further inquiry elicited the fact that these un¬ 
happy girls had fallen in love with two young men, 
and run away with them against the King’s orders, 
or Cetywayo’s, which was the same thing. The party 
were overtaken before they could reach the Natal 
border, where they would have been safe; the young 
men were killed at once and the girls brought up for 
judgment, with the result that I have described. 
Such was the end of their honeymoon! 

Moreover, the captain informed me cheerfully that 
a body of soldiers had been sent out to kill the fathers 
and mothers of the young men and all who could be 
found in their kraals. This kind of free love must be 
put a stop to, he said, as there had been too much of 
it going on; indeed, he did not know what had come 
to the young people in Zululand, who had grown 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 39 

very independent of late, contaminated, no doubt, by 
the example of the Zulus in Natal, where the white 
men allowed them to do what they liked without 
punishment. 

Then with a sigh over the degeneracy of the times, 
this crusted old conservative took a pinch of snuff, 
bade me a hearty farewell, and departed, singing a 
little song which I think he must have invented, as it 
was about the love of children for their parents. If it 
had been safe I should have liked to let him have a 
charge of shot behind to take away as a souvenir, but 
it was not. Also, after all, he was but an executive 
officer, a product of the iron system of Zululand in 
the day of the kings. 

Well, I trekked on, trading as I went, and getting 
paid in cows and heifers, which I sent back to Natal, 
but could come by no oxen that were fit for the yoke, 
and much less any that had been broken in, since in 
those days such were almost unknown in Zululand. 
However, I did hear of some that had been left behind 
by a white trader because they were sick or footsore, 
I forget which, who took young cattle in exchange for 
them. These were said now to be fat again, but no 
one seemed to know exactly where they were. One 
friendly chief told me, however, that the “Opener- 
of-Roads,” that is, old Zikali, might be able to do 
so, as he knew everything and the oxen had been 
traded away in his district. 

Now by this time, although I was still obsessed 
about Heu-Heu, I had almost made up my mind to 
abandon the idea of visiting Zikali on this trip, be¬ 
cause I had noticed that whenever I did so, always I 
became involved in arduous and unpleasant adven¬ 
tures as an immediate consequence. Being, however, 
badly in need of more oxen, for, not to mention the 
two that were dead, others of my team seemed never 


40 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

to have recovered from the effects of the hailstorm 
and one or two showed signs of sickness, this news 
caused me to revert to my original plan. So after 
consultation with Hans, who also thought it the 
best thing to be done, I headed for the Black Kloof, 
which was only two short days’ trek away. 

Arriving at the mouth of that hateful and forbid¬ 
ding gulf on the afternoon of the second day, I out- 
spanned by the spring and, leaving the cattle in 
charge of Mavoon and Induka, walked up it accom¬ 
panied by Hans. 

The place, of course, was just as it had always been, 
and yet, as it ever did, struck me with a fresh sense of 
novelty and amazement. In all Africa I scarcely 
know a gorge that is so eerie and depressing. Those 
towering cliffsides that look as though they are about 
to fall in upon the traveller, the stunted, melancholy 
aloe plants which grow among the rocks; the pale 
vegetation; the jackals and hyaenas that start away 
at the sound of voices or echoing footsteps; the dense, 
dark shadows; the whispering winds that seem to 
wail about one even when the air is still over-head, 
draughts, I suppose, that are drawing backwards and 
forwards through the gulley; all of these are peculiar 
to it. The ancients used to declare that particular 
localities had their own genii or spirits, but whether 
these were believed to be evolved by the locality or to 
come thither because it suited their character and 
nature, I do not know. 

In the Black Kloof and some other spots to which 
I have wandered, I have often thought of this fable 
and almost found myself accepting it as true. But, 
then, what kind of a spirit would it be that chose to 
inhabit this dreadful gorge? I think some embodi¬ 
ment—no, that word is a contradiction—some impal¬ 
pable essence of Tragedy, some doomed soul whereof 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 41 

the head was bowed and the wings were leaded with 
a weight of ineffable and unrepented crime. 

Well, what need was there to fly to fable and im¬ 
agine such an invisible inhabitant when Zikali, 
the Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born , was, and 
for uncounted years had been, the Dweller in this 
tomb-like gulf? Surely he was Tragedy personified, 
and that hoary head of his was crowned with ineffa¬ 
ble and unrepented crime. How many had this 
hideous dwarf brought down to doom and how many 
were yet destined to perish in the snares that year by 
year he wove for them ? And yet this sinner had been 
sinned against and did but pay back his sufferings in 
kind, he whose wives and children had been murdered 
and whose tribe had been stamped flat beneath the 
cruel feet of Chaka, whose House he hated and lived 
on to destroy. Even for Zikali allowances could be 
made; he was not altogether bad. Is any man al¬ 
together bad, I wonder. 

Musing thus, I tramped on up the gorge, followed 
by the dejected Hans, whom the place always de¬ 
pressed, even more than it did myself. 

“Baas,” he said presently in a hollow whisper, for 
here he did not dare to speak aloud, “Baas, do you 
think that the Opener-of-Roads was once Heu-Heu 
himself who has now shrunk to a dwarf with age, 
or at any rate, that Heu-Heu’s spirit lives in him?” 

“No, I don’t,” I answered, “for he has fingers and 
toes like the rest of us, but I do think that if there is 
any Heu-Heu he may be able to tell us where to 
find him.” 

“Then, Baas, I hope that he has forgotten, or that 
Heu-Heu has gone to heaven where the fires go on 
burning of themselves without the need of wood. 
For, Baas, I do not want to meet Heu-Heu; the 
thought of him turns my stomach cold.” 


42 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

‘‘No, you would rather go to Durban and meet a 
gin bottle that would turn your stomach warm, Hans, 
and your head, too, and land you in the Trunk for 
seven days/’ I replied, improving the occasion. 

Then we turned the corner and came upon ZikalTs 
kraal. As usual, I appeared to be expected, for one 
of his great silent body servants was waiting, who 
saluted me with uplifted spear. I suppose that Zikali 
must have had a look-out man stationed somewhere 
who watched the plain beneath and told him who was 
approaching. Or possibly he had other methods of 
obtaining information. At any rate, he always knew 
of my advent and often enough of why I came and 
whence, as, indeed, he did on this occasion. 

“The Father of Spirits awaits you, Lord Macu- 
mazahn,” said the body servant. “He bids the little 
yellow man who is named Light-in-Darkness, to 
accompany you and will see you at once.” 

I nodded and the man led me to the gate of the 
fence that surrounded ZikalTs great hut, on which he 
tapped with the handle of his spear. It was opened, 
by whom I did not see, and we entered, whereon 
someone slipped out of the shadows and closed the 
gate behind us, then vanished. There in front of the 
door of his hut, with a fire burning before him, 
crouched the dwarf wrapped in a fur kaross, his huge 
head, on either side of which the gray locks fell down 
much as they did in the picture of Heu-Heu, bent 
forward, and the light of the fire into which he was 
staring shining in his cavernous eyes. We advanced 
across the shiny beaten floor of the courtyard and 
stood in front of him, but for half a minute or more 
he took no notice of our presence. At length, without 
looking up, he spoke in that hollow, resounding voice 
which was unlike to any other I ever heard, saying. 

“Why do you always come so late, Macumazahn, 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 


43 

when the sun is off the hut and it grows cold in the 
shadows? You know I hate the cold, as the aged 
always do, and I was minded not to receive you.” 

“ Because I could not get here before, Zikali,” I 
answered. 

“Then you might have waited until to-morrow 
morning unless, perhaps, you thought that I should 
die in the night, which I shall not do. No, nor for 
many nights. Well, here you are, little white Wan¬ 
derer who hops from place to place like a flea.” 

“Yes, here I am,” I replied, nettled, “to visit you 
who do not wander but sit in one spot like a toad in 
a stone, Zikali.” 

“Ho, ho, ho!” he laughed—that wonderful laugh 
of his which echoed from the rocks and always made 
me feel cold down the back, “Ho, ho, ho! how easy it 
is to make you angry. Keep your temper, Macu- 
mazahn, lest it should run away with you as your 
oxen did before the storm in the mountains the other 
day. What do you want? You only come here 
when you want something from him whom once you 
named the Old Cheat. So I don't wander, don't I, 
but sit like a toad in a stone? How do you know 
that? Is it only the body that wanders? Cannot 
the spirit wander also, far, oh, far, even to the ‘Heaven 
Above' sometimes, and perhaps to that land which is 
under the earth, the place where they say the dead 
are to be found again? Well, what do you want? 
Stay, and I will tell you, who explain yourself so 
badly, who, although you think that you speak Zulu 
like a native, have never really learned it properly be¬ 
cause to do that you must think in it and not in your 
own stupid tongue, that has no words for many 
things. Man, my medicines.” 

A figure darted out of the hut, set down a cat-skin 
bag before him, and was gone again. Zikali plunged 


44 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

his claw-like hand into the bag and drew out a num¬ 
ber of knuckle bones, polished, but yellow with age, 
which he threw carelessly on to the ground in front ot 
him, then glanced at them. . T 

“Ha,” he said, “something about cattle, I see, 
yes, you want to get oxen, broken oxen, not wild 
ones, and think that I can tell you where to do it 
cheap. By the way, what present have you brought 
for me? Is it a pound of your white man s snuff. 

(As a matter of fact, it was a quarter of a pound.) 
“Now am I right about the oxen? 

“Yes,” I replied, rather amazed. . 

“That astonishes you. It is wonderful, isn t it, 
that the poor Old Cheat should know what you want. 
Well, I’ll tell you how it is done. You lost two oxen 
by lightning, did you not ? You therefore, naturally 
would want others, especially as some of those which 
remain”—here he glanced at the bones once more— 
“were hurt, yes, by hailstones, very large hailstones, 
and others are showing signs of sickness, red-water, 1 
think. Therefore, it isn’t strange that the poor Uld 
Cheat should guess that you needed oxen, is it. 
Only a silly Zulu would put such a thing down to 
magic. About the snuff, too, which I see you have 
taken from your pocket—a very little parcel, by the 
way. You’ve brought me snuff before, haven t you. 
Therefore, it isn’t Strang that I should guess that 
you would do so again, is it ? No magic there. 

“None, Zikali, but how did you learn ol the light¬ 
ning killing the cattle and of the hailstorm?” 

“How did I learn that the lightning killed your 
pole-oxen, Kaptein and Deutchmann? Why, are 
you not a very great man in whom all are interested, 
and is it wonderful that I should be told ofaccidents 
that happen a hundred miles or so away ? You met a 
party going to a wedding, did you not, just before the 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 


45 

storm, and found one of them dead afterwards? By 
the way, he wasn’t killed either by lightning or by 
hail. The flash fell near and stunned him, but really 
he died of the cold during the night. I thought that 
you might like to know that, as you are curious on the 
point. Of course, those Kaffirs would have told me 
all about it, would they not? No magic, again you 
see. That’s how we poor witch doctors gain repute, 
just by keeping our eyes and ears open. When you 
are old you might set up in the trade yourself, Macu- 
mazahn, since you do the same thing, even at night, 
they say.” 

Now while he went on mocking me he had gathered 
up the bones out of the dust and suddenly threw them 
again with a curious spiral twist that caused them to 
fall in a little heap, perched on one another. He 
looked at them, and said, 

“Why, what do these silly things remind me of? 
They are some of the tools of my trade, you know, 
Macumazahn, used to impress the fools that come to 
see us witch doctors, who think that they tell us 
secrets, and to take off their attention while we read 
their hearts. Somehow or other they remind me of 
rocks piled one on another as on a mountain slope, 
and look! there is a hollow in the middle like the 
mouth of a cave. 

“Did you chance to take refuge from that storm 
in a cave, Macumazahn? Oh, you did! Well, see 
how cleverly I guessed it. No magic there again, 
only just a guess. Isn’t it likely that you would 
go to a cave to escape from such a tempest, 
leaving the 5 wagon outside? Look at that bone 
there, lying a little distance off the others, that’s 
what made me think of the wagon being outside. 
But the question is, what did you see in the cave? 
Anything out of the way, I wonder? The bones 


46 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

can’t tell me that, can they? I must guess that 
somehow else, mustn’t I? Well, I’ll try to do so, 
just to give you, the wise white man, another lesson 
in the manner that we poor rascals of witch doctors 
do our work and take in fools. But won’t you tell 
me, Macumazahn?” 

“No, I won’t,” I answered crossly, who knew that 
the old dwarf was making a butt of me. 

“Then I suppose that I must try to discover for 
myself, but how, how? Come here, you little yellow 
monkey of a man, and sit between me and the fire so 
that its light shines through you, for then perchance 
I may be able to see something of what is going on in 
that thick head of yours, Light-in-Darkness, as you 
are called, and get some light in my darkness.” 

Hans advanced unwillingly enough and squatted 
down at the spot that Zikali indicated with his bony 
finger, being very careful- that none of the magic 
bones should touch any portion of his anatomy, for 
fear lest they should bewitch him, I suppose. There 
he sat, holding his ragged felt hat upon the pit of his 
stomach as though to ward off the gimlet-like glances 
of Zikali’s burning eyes. 

“Ho-ho! Yellow Man,” said the dwarf after a 
few seconds of inspection, which caused Hans to 
wriggle uncomfortably and even to colour beneath his 
wrinkled skin, like a young woman being studied by 
her prospective husband, who desires to ascertain 
whether she will or will not do for a fifth wife. 
“Ho-ho! it seems to me that you knew this cave be¬ 
fore you went there in the storm, but of course I 
should guess that, for how otherwise would you have 
found it in such a hurry; also that it had something 
to do with Bushmen, as most caves have in this 
land. r 

“The question is, what was in it? No, don’t tell 


THE OPENER-OF-ROADS 47 

me. I want to find out for myself. It is strange 
that the thought comes to me of pictures. No, it 
isn’t strange, since the Bushmen often used to paint 
pictures in caves. Now, you shouldn’t nod your 
head, Yellow Man, because it makes the riddle too 
easy. Just stare at me and think of nothing at all. 
Pictures, lots of them, but one principal picture, I 
think; something that was difficult to come at. 
Yes, dangerous, even. Was it perchance a picture of 
yourself that a Bushman drew long ago when you 
were young and handsome, Yellow Man ? 

“There, again you are shaking your head. Keep it 
quite still, will you, so that the thoughts in it don’t 
ripple like water beneath a wind. At least it was a 
picture of something hideous, but much bigger than 
you. Ah! it grows and grows. I am getting it now. 
Macumazahn, come and stand by me, and you, Yel¬ 
low Man, turn your back so that you face the fire. 
Bah! it burns badly, does it not, and the air is so cold, 
so cold! I must make it brighter. 

“Are you there, Macumazahn? Yes. Now look 
at this stuff of mine; see what a fine blaze it causes,” 
and putting his hand into the bag, he drew out some 
kind of powder, only a little of it, which he threw 
on to the embers. Then he stretched his skinny 
fingers over them as though for warmth, and slowly 
lifted his arms high into the air. It is a fact that 
after him the flames sprang up to a height of three or 
four feet. He dropped his arms again and the flames 
sank down. He lifted them once more and once more 
they rose, only this time much higher. A third time 
he repeated this performance, and now the sheet of 
fire sprang full fifteen feet into the air and so remained 
burning steadily, like the flame of a lamp. 

“Look at that fire, Macumazahn, and you also, 
Yellow Man,” he said, in a strange new voice, a sort of 


>48 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

dreamy far-off voice, “and tell me if you see anything 
in it, for I can’t—I can’t.” . ,. 

I looked, and for a moment perceived nothing. 
Then some shape began to grow upon the blazing 
background. It wavered; it changed; it became fixed 
and definite, yes, clear and real. There before me, 
etched in flame, I saw Heu-Heu—Heu-Heu as he had 
been in the painting on the cave wall, only, as it 
seemed to me, alive, for his eyes blinked—Heu-Heu, 
looking like a devil in hell. I gasped but stood firm. 
As for Hans, he ejaculated in his vile Dutch, 

“ Allemaghte! Da is die leeliker auld deill (that 
is, “Almighty! There is the ugly old devil!”) and 
having said this, rolled over on to his back and lay 
still, frozen with terror. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Zikali. Ho, ho, ho! 
and from a dozen places the walls of the kloof echoed 
back, “Ho, ho, ho!” 


CHAPTER IV 
The Legend of Heu-Heu 

Zikali stopped laughing and contemplated us with 
his hollow eyes. 

“Who was it who first said that all men are fools?” 
he asked. “I do not know, but I think it must have 
been a woman, a pretty woman who played with them 
and found that it was so. If so, she was wise, as all 
women are in their narrow way, which the saying 
shows, since they are left out of it. Well, I will add 
to the proverb; all men are cowards also in one matter 
or another, though in the rest they may be brave 
enough. Further, they are all the same, for what 
is the difference between you, Macumazahn, wise 
White Man who have dared death a hundred times, 
and yonder little yellow ape?” Here he pointed to 
Hans, lying upon his back, with rolling eyes and 
muttering prayers to a variety of gods between his 
chattering teeth. “Both of you are afraid, one as 
much as the other; the only difference being that the 
White Lord tries to conceal his fear, whilst the Yellow 
Monkey chatters it out, as monkeys do. 

“Why are you so frightened? Just because by a 
common trick I show to your eyes a picture of that 
which is in the minds of both of you. Mark you 
again, not by magic but by a common trick which any 
child could learn, if somebody taught it to him. I 
hope that you will not behave like this when you see 
Heu-Heu himself, for if you do I shall be disappointed 
49 


50 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

in you and soon there will be two more skulls in that 
cave of his. But then, perhaps, you will be brave; 
yes, I think so, I think so, since never would you like 
to die remembering how long and loud I should laugh 
when I heard of it.” 

Thus the old wizard rambled on, as was his fashion 
when he wished to combine his acrid mockery with 
the desire to gain space for thought, till presently he 
grew silent and took some of the snuff which I had 
brought him, for he had been engaged in opening the 
packet while he talked, all the while continuing to 
watch us as though he would search out our very 
souls. 

Now, because I thought that I must say something, 
if only to show that he had not frightened me with his 
accursed manifestations, or whatever they were, I 
answered, 

“You are right, Zikali, when you say that all men 
are fools, seeing that you are the first and biggest fool 
among them.” 

“I have often thought it, Macumazahn, for reasons 
that I keep to myself. But why do you say so ? Let 
me hear, who would learn whether yours are the same 
as my own.” 

“First, because you talk as though there were such 
a creature as Heu-Heu, which, as you know well, does 
not live and never did; and secondly, because you 
speak as though Hans and I would meet it face to 
face, which we shall never do. So cease from such 
nonsense and show us how to make pictures in the 
fire—an art, you tell us, any child can learn.” 

“If they are taught, Macumazahn, if they are 
taught how. But were I to do this, I should indeed 
be the first of fools. Do you think that I wish to 
establish two rival cheats—you see, between our¬ 
selves, I give myself my right name—in the land to 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 


5i 

trade against me? No, no, let each keep the knowl¬ 
edge he has earned for himself, for if it becomes 
common to all, who will pay for it? But why do you 
believe that you will never stand face to face with 
Heu-Heu except in pictures on rock or fire?” 

“ Because he doesn’t exist,” I answered with irrita¬ 
tion ; “ and if he does, I suppose his home is a long way 
off and I cannot trek without fresh oxen.” 

“Ah!”said Zikali “thatreminds me again that those 
who told me of how you refuged in the cave from the 
storm and the rest said that you wanted more oxen. 
So, knowing that you would be in as great a hurry 
to get to Heu-Heu as a young man is to find his first 
wife, I made ready. The story you heard was quite 
true. A white trader did leave a very fine team 
of footsore oxen in this neighbourhood, salted, every 
one of them, which after three moons’ rest, are now 
fat and sound. I will have them driven up to-morrow 
morning and take care of yours while you are away.” 

“I have no money to pay for more oxen,” I said. 

“Is not the promise of Macumazahn better than 
any money, even the red English gold ? Does not 
the whole land know it? Moreover,” he added 
slowly, “when you return from visiting Heu-Heu 
you ought to have plenty of money—or, rather, of 
diamonds, which is the same thing—and perhaps of 
ivory, though of that I am not so sure. No, I am not 
sure whether you will be able to carry the ivory. If 
I do not speak truth I will pay for the oxen myself.” 

Now at the word “diamonds” I pricked up my 
ears, for just then all Africa was beginning to talk 
about these stones; even Hans rose from the ground 
and began once more to take interest in earthly 
things. 

“That’s a fair offer,” I said, “but stop blowing 
dust” O'. e. y talking nonsense) “and tell me straight 


52 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

out what you mean before it grows dark. I hate this 
kloof in the dark. Who is Heu-Heu? And if he or 
it lives, or lived, where is Heu-Heu, dead or alive? 
Also, supposing that there was or is a Heu-Heu, 
why do you, Zikali, wish me to find him, as I perceive 
you do, who always have a reason for what you wish ? ” 

“I will answer the last question first, Macumazahn, 
who, as you say, always have a reason for what I 
want you or others to do.” 

Here he stopped and clapped his hands, whereon 
instantly one of his great serving men appeared from 
the hut behind, to whom he gave some order. The 
man darted away and presently was back with more 
of the skin bags such as witch doctors use to carry 
their medicines. Zikali opened one of these and 
showed me that it was almost empty, there being in it 
but a pinch of brown powder. 

“This stuff, Macumazahn,” he said, “is the most 
wonderful of all drugs, even more wonderful than the 
herb called taduki that can open the paths of the past, 
with which herb you will become acquainted one day. 
By means of it—I speak not of taduki but of the 
powder in the bag—I do most of my tricks. For 
instance, it was with a dust of it that I was able to 
show you and the little yellow man the picture of 
Heu-Heu in the flames just now.” 

“You mean that it is a poison, I suppose.” 

“Oh, yes, among other things, by adding another 
powder it can be made into a very deadly poison; 
so deadly that as little of it as will lie upon the point 
of a thorn will kill the strongest man and leave no 
trace. But it has other properties also that have to 
do with the mind and the spirit; never mind what 
they are; if I tried to tell you, you would not under¬ 
stand. Well, the Tree of Visions from the leaves of 
which this medicine is ground grows only in the gar- 


53 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 

den of Heu-Heu and nowhere else in Africa, and I 
got my last supply of it thence many years ago, long 
before you were born, indeed, Macumazahn; never 
mind how. 

“Now I must have more, of those leaves, or what 
these Zulus call my magic, which wise white men like 
you know to be but my tricks, will fail me, and the 
world will say that the Opener-of-Roads has lost his 
strength and turn to seek wiser doctors.” 

“Then why do you not send and get some, Zikali ?” 

“Whom can I send that would dare to enter the 
land of Heu-Heu and rob his garden ? No one but 
yourself, Macumazahn. Ah! I read your mind. 
You are wondering now if that be so, why I do not 
order that the leaves should be brought to me from 
the place of Heu-Heu. For this reason, Macuma¬ 
zahn. The dwellers there may not leave their hidden 
land; it is against their law. Moreover, if they 
might they would not part even with a handful 
of that drug, except at a great price. Once, a 
hundred years ago” (by which, I suppose, he meant 
a long time), “I paid such a price and bought a 
quantity of the stuff of which you see the last in that 
bag. But that is an old story with which I will not 
trouble you. Oh! many went and but two returned, 
and they mad, as those are apt to be who have looked 
on Heu-Heu and left him living. If ever you see 
Heu-Heu, Macumazahn, be sure to destroy him and 
all that is his, lest his curse should follow you for the 
rest of your days. Fallen, he will be powerless, but 
standing, his hate is very strong and reaches far, or 
that of his priests does, which is the same thing.” 

“Rubbish!” I said. “If there is any Heu-Heu, 
he is but a big ape, and living or dead, I am not afraid 
of any ape.” 

“I am glad to hear that, Macumazahn, and hope 


54 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

that you will always be of the same mind. Doubtless 
it is only his picture painted on rock or in the fire 
that frightens you, just as a dream is more terrible 
than anything real. Some day you shall tell me 
which was the worse, Heu-Heu’s picture or Heu-Heu 
himself. But you asked me other questions. The 
first of them was, Who is Heu-Heu? 

“Well, I do not know. The legend tells that once, 
in the beginning, there was a people white, or almost 
white, who lived far away to the north. This people, 
says the old tale, were ruled over by a giant, very 
cruel and very terrible; a great wizard also, or cheat, 
as you would call him. So cruel and terrible was he, 
indeed, that his people rose against him, and strong 
as he might be, forced him to fly southwards with 
some who clung to him or could not escape him. 

“So south he came with them, thousands of miles, 
until he found a secret place that suited him to dwell 
in. That place is beneath the shadow of a mountain 
of a sort that I have heard spouted out fire when the 
world was young, which even now smokes from 
time to time. Here this people, who are named 
Walloo, built them a town after their northern fash¬ 
ion out of the black stone which flowed from the 
mountain in past ages. But their king, the giant 
wizard, continued his cruelties to them forcing them 
to labour night and day at his city and Great House 
and a cave in which he was worshipped as a god, till 
at last they could bear no more and murdered him by 
night. 

“Before he died, however, which he took long to 
do because of his magic, he mocked them, telling them 
that not thus would they be rid of him since he would 
come back in a worse shape than before and still 
rule over them from generation to generation. More¬ 
over, he prophesied disaster to them and laid this 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 


55 

curse upon them, that if they strove to leave the 
land that he had chosen, and to cross the ring of 
mountains by which it is enclosed, they should die, 
every one of them. This, indeed, happened, or so 
I have heard, since if even one of them travels down 
the river, by which alone that country can be ap¬ 
proached from the desert, and sets foot in the desert, 
he dies, sometimes by sudden sickness, or sometimes 
by the teeth of lions and other wild beasts that live in 
the great swamp where the river enters the desert, 
whither the elephants and other game come to drink 
from hundreds of miles around.” 

“ Perhaps fever kills them,” I suggested. 

“ Maybe so, or poison, or a curse. At least, soon 
or late they die, and therefore it comes about that 
now none of them leaves that land.” 

“And what happened to the Walloos after they had 
finished off this kind king of theirs?” I asked, for 
Zikali’s romantic fable interested me. Of course, I 
knew that it was a fable, but in such tales, magnified 
by native rumour, there is sometimes a grain of truth. 
Also Africa is a great country, and in it there are very 
queer places and peoples. 

“Something very bad happened, Macumazahn, 
for scarcely was their king dead when the mountain 
began to belch out fire and hot ashes, which killed 
many of them and caused the rest to fly in boats 
across the lake that makes an island of the mountain, 
to the forest lands that lie around. There they live 
to this day upon the banks of the river which flows 
through the forest, the same that passes through the 
gorge of the mountains into the swamp, and there 
loses itself in the desert sands. So, at least, my 
messengers told me a hundred years ago, when they 
brought me the medicine that grows in Heu-Heu’s 
garden.” 


56 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“I suppose that they were afraid to go back to their 
town after the eruption was over,” I said. 

“Yes, they were afraid, at which you will not 
wonder when you see it, for when the mountain 
blew up the gases killed very many of them and 
what is more, turned them to stone. Aye, there 
they sit, Macumazahn, to this day, turned to stone, 
and with them their dogs and cattle.” 

Now at this amazing tale I burst out laughing, and 
even Hans grinned. 

“I have noted, Macumazahn/’ said Zikali, “that 
in the beginning it is you who always laugh at me, 
while in the end it is I who laugh at you, and so I 
believe it will be in this case also. I tell you that 
there those people sit turned to stone, and if it is not 
so, you need not pay me for the oxen that I bought 
from the white man even should you come back with 
your pockets full of diamonds.” 

Now I bethought meofwhat happened at Pompeii, 
and ceased to laugh. After all, the thing was possi¬ 
ble. 

“That is one reason why they did not return to 
their town, even when the mountain went to sleep 
again, but there was another, Macumazahn, that was 
stronger still. Soon they found that it was haunted.’ 

“Haunted! By what? By the stone men?” 

“No, they are quiet enough, though what their 
spirits may be I cannot tell you. Haunted by their 
king whom they had killed, turned into a gigantic 
ape, turned into Heu-Heu.” 

Now at this statement I did not laugh, although at 
first sight it seemed much more absurd than that of 
the dead people who had been petrified. For this 
reason: as I knew well, it is the commonest of beliefs 
among savages, and especially those of Central 
Africa, that dead chiefs, notably if they have been 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 57 

tyrants during their life, are metamorphosed into 
some terrible animal, which thenceforward persecutes 
them from generation to generation. The animal 
may be a rogue elephant or a man-killing lion, or 
perhaps a very poisonous snake. But whatever 
shape it takes, it always has this characteristic, that 
it does not die and cannot be killed—at any rate, 
by any of those whom it afflicts. Indeed, in my own 
experience I have come across sundry examples of this 
belief among natives. Therefore, it did not strike 
me as strange that these people should imagine their 
country to be cursed by the spirit of a legendary 
tyrant turned into a monster. 

Only in the monster itself I put no faith. If it 
existed at all probably it would resolve itself into a 
large ape, or perhaps a gorilla living upon an island 
in the lake where it had become marooned, or drifted 
upon a tree in a flood. 

“And what does this spirit do?” I asked Zikali 
incredulously. “Throw nuts or stones at people?” 

“No, Macumazahn. According to what I have 
been told, it does much more. At times it crosses to 
the mainland—some say upon a log, some say by 
swimming, some say as spirits can. There, if it 
meets any one, it twists off his or her head” (here I 
bethought me of the picture in the cave), “for no 
man can fight against its strength, or woman either, 
because if she be old and ugly, it serves her in the 
same fashion, but if she be young and well favoured, 
then it carries her away. The island is said to be full 
of such women who cultivate the garden of Heu- 
Heu. Moreover, it is reported that they have 
children who cross the lake and live in the forest— 
terrible, hairy creatures that are half human, for they 
can make fire and use clubs and bows and arrows. 
These savage people are named Heuheua. They 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 


dwell in the forests, and between them andtheWalloos 
there is perpetual war.” 

“Anything else?” I asked. 

“Yes, one thing. At a certain time of the year 
the Walloos must take their fairest and best-born 
maiden and tie her to an appointed rock upon the 
shore of the island upon a night of full moon. 1 hen 
they go away and leave her alone, returning at sun- 
• >> 
nSe * 

“And what do they find?’ 

“One of two things, Macumazahn; either that the 
maiden has gone, in which case they are well pleased, 
except those of them to whom she is related, or 
that she has been torn to pieces, having been rejected 
by Heu-Heu, in which case they weep and groan, not 
for her but for themselves.” 

“Why do they rejoice, and why do they weep, 

Zikali?” . 

“For this reason. If the maiden has been taken, 
Heu-Heu, or his servants, the Heuheua, will spare 
them and his priests for that year. Moreover, their 
crops will prosper and they be free from sickness. If 
she has been killed, he or his servants haunt them, 
snatching away other women, and they will have bad 
harvests; also fever and other ills fall upon them. 
Therefore, the Offering of the Maiden is their great 
ceremony, which, should she be taken, is followed by 
the Feast of Rejoicing, and should she be rejected 
and slain, by the Fast of Lamentation and the sacrifice 
of her parents or others.” 

“A pleasant religion, Zikali. Tell me, is it one that 
pleases these Walloos?” 

“Does any religion please any man, Macumazahn, 
and do tears, want, sickness, bereavement, and 
death please those who are born into the world ? For 
example, like the rest of us, you white people suffer 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 


59 


these things, or so I have heard; also you have your 
own Heu-Heu or devil who claims such sacrifices and 
yet avenges himself upon you. You are not pleased 
with him, still you go on making your sacrifices of war 
and blood and all wickedness in return for what he 
did to you, thereby binding yourselves to him afresh 
and confirming his power over you, and as you do, so 
do we all. Yet if you and the rest of us would but 
stand up against him, perhaps his strength might be 
broken, or he might be slain. Why, then, do we con¬ 
tinue to sacrifice our maidens of virtue, truth, and 
purity to him, and how are we better than those who 
worship Heu-Heu, who do so to save their lives?” 

I considered his argument, which was subtle for a 
savage, however old and instructed, to have evolved 
from his limited opportunities of observation, and 
answered rather humbly, 

“ I do not suppose that we are better at all. ,, Then 
to change the subject to something more practical, I 
added, “But what about those diamonds?” 

“The diamonds! Oho! the diamonds, which, by 
the way, I believe are one of the offerings that you 
white people make to your own Heu-Heu. Well, 
these people seem to have plenty of them. Of course, 
they are useless to them, as they do not trade. Still, 
the women know that they are pretty, and fasten 
them about themselves in little nets of hair after 
polishing them upon stone, because they do not know 
how to make holes in them, being so hard, and can¬ 
not set them in metals. Also they stick them in the 
clay of their eating-dishes before these are dried, 
making pretty patterns with them. It seems that 
these stones and others that are red, are washed down 
by the river from some desert across which it flows 
above, through a tunnel in the mountains, I believe. 
At any rate, they find them in plenty in the gravel on 


60 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

its banks, which they set the children to sift in a 
closely woven sieve of human hair, or in some such 
fashion. Stay, I will show you what they are like, 
for my messengers brought me a fistful or two many 
years ago,” and he clapped his hands. 

Instantly, as before, one of his servants appeared, 
to whom he gave certain instructions. The man 
went, and presently returned with a little packet of 
ancient, wrinkled skin that looked like a bit of an 
old glove. This he untied and gave to me. Within 
were a quantity of small stones that looked and felt 
like diamonds, very good diamonds, as I judged from 
their colour, though none of them were large. Also 
among them was a sprinkling of other stones that 
might have been rubies, though of this I could not be 
sure. At a guess I should have estimated the value 
of the parcel at £200 or £300. When I had ex¬ 
amined them, I offered them back to Zikali, but he 
waved his hand and said, 

“ Keep them, Macumazahn; keep them. They are 
no good to me, and when you come to the land of Heu- 
Heu, compare them with those you will find there, 
just to show yourself that in this matter I do not lie.” 

“When I come to the land of Heu-Heu!” I exclaimed 
indignantly. “Where, then, is this land, and how 
am I to reach it?” 

“That I propose to tell you to-morrow, Macu¬ 
mazahn, not to-night, since it would be useless to 
waste time and breath upon the business until I 
know two things: first, whether you will go there, and 
secondly, whether the Walloos will receive you if 
you do go.” 

“When I have heard the answer to the second 
question, we will talk of the first, Zikali. But why 
do you try to make a fool of me? These Walloos and 
the savage Heuheuas with whom they fight, I un- 


6i 


THE LEGEND OF HEU-HEU 

derstand, dwell far away. How, then, can you have 
the answer by to-morrow ?” 

“There are ways, there are ways,” he answered 
dreamily, then seemed to go into a kind of doze with 
his great head sunk upon his breast. 

I stared at him for a while, till, growing weary of 
the occupation, I looked about me and noted that of 
a sudden it was growing dusk. Whilst I did so I 
began to hear screechings in the air: sharp, thin 
screechings such as are made by rats. 

“Look, Baas,” whispered Hans in a frightened 
voice, “his spirits come,” and he pointed upwards. 

I did look, and far above, as though they were 
descending from the sky, saw some wide-winged, 
flittering shapes, three of them. They descended in 
circles very swiftly, and I perceived that they were 
bats, enormous and evil-looking bats. Now they 
were wheeling about us so closely that twice their 
outstretched wings touched my face, sending a horrid 
thrill through me; and each time that a creature 
passed, it screeched in my ear, setting my teeth 
on edge. 

Hans tried to beat away one of them from in¬ 
vestigating him, whereon it clung to his hand and 
bit his finger, or so I judged from the yell he gave, 
after which he dragged his hat down over his head 
and plunged his hands into his pockets. Then the 
bats concentrated their attention upon Zikali. 
Round and round him they went in a dizzy whirl 
which grew closer and closer, till at last two of them 
settled on his shoulders just by his ears, and began to 
twitter in them, while the third hung itself on to his 
chin and thrust its hideous head against his lips. 

At this point in the proceedings Zikali seemed to 
wake up, for his eyes opened and grew bright, also 
with his skinny hands he stroked the bats upon his 


62 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

shoulders as though they were pet birds. More, he 
seemed to speak with the creature that hung to his 
chin, talking in a language which I could not under¬ 
stand, while it twittered back the answers in its slate- 
pencil notes. Then suddenly he waved his arms and 
all three of them took flight again, wheeling outwards 
and upwards, till presently they vanished in the 
gloom. 

“I tame bats and these are quite fond of me,” he 
said by way of explanation, then added, “Come back 
to-morrow morning, Macumazahn, and perhaps I 
shall be able to tell you whether the Walloos wish for 
a visit from you, and if so, to show you a road to 
their country.” 

So we went, glad enough to get away, since the 
Opener-of-Roads, with his peculiar talk and mani¬ 
festations, as I believe they call them in spiritualistic 
circles, was a person who soon got upon one’s nerves, 
especially at nightfall. As we stumbled down that 
hateful gorge in the gloom, Hans asked, 

“What were those things that hung to Zikali’s 
shoulders and chin?” 

“Bats, very large bats. What else?” I answered. 

“I think a great deal else, Baas. I think that they 
are his familiars whom he is sending to those Walloos, 
just as he said.” 

“Do you believe in the Walloos and the Heuheua 
then, Hans? I don’t.” 

“Yes, I do, Baas, and what is more, I believe that 
we shall visit them, because Zikali means that we 
should, and who is there that can fight against the 
will of the Opener-of-Roads?” 


CHAPTER V 
Allan Makes a Promise 

I never could sleep well in the neighbourhood of the 
Black Kloof. It always seemed to me to give out evil 
and disturbing emanations, nor was this night any 
exception to the rule. For hour after hour, cogitating 
the old wizard’s marvellous tale of the Walloos and 
Heu-Heu, their devil-ghost, I lay in the midst of the 
intense silence of that lonely place which was broken 
only by the occasional scream of a night-hawk, or 
perhaps of the prey that it gripped, or the echoing 
bark of some baboon among the rocks. 

The story was foolishness. And yet—and yet 
there were so many strange peoples hidden away in 
the vast recesses of Africa, and some of them had these 
extremely queer beliefs or superstitions. Indeed, I 
began to wonder whether it is not possible for these 
superstitions, persisted in through ages, to produce 
something concrete, at any rate to the minds of 
those whom they affect. 

Also there were odd circumstances connected with 
this tale or romance that might, in a way, be called 
corroborative. For instance, the picture of Heu- 
Heu in the cave which Zikali, by his infernal arts or 
tricks, reproduced in the flame of fire; for instance, the 
diamonds and rubies, or crystals and spinels, which¬ 
ever they might be, that at present reposed in the 
pocket of my shooting coat. These, presuming them 
to be the former, must have come from some very 
63 


64 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

far-off or hidden spot, since I had never seen or heard 
of such in any place that I had visited, as they were 
entirely unlike those which, at that time, they were 
beginning to find at Kimberley, being, for one thing, 
much more water-worn. 

Still, the presence of diamonds in a certain district 
had nothing to do with the possible existence of a 
Heu-Heu. Therefore, they proved nothing, one way 
or the other. 

And if there were a Heu-Heu, did I wish to meet 
him face to face? In one sense, not at all, but in 
another, very much indeed. My curiosity was al¬ 
ways great, and it would be wonderful to behold that 
which no white man's eyes had ever seen, and still 
more wonderful to struggle with and kill such a 
monster. A vision rose before my eyes of Heu- 
Heu stuffed in the British Museum with a large 
painted placard underneath: 

Shot in Central Africa by 
Allan Quatermain, Esq. 

Why, then I, the most humble and unknown of per¬ 
sons, would become famous and have my likeness 
published in the Graphic , and probably the Illus¬ 
trated London News also, perhaps with my foot set 
upon the breast of the prostrate Heu-Heu. 

That, indeed, would be glory! Only Heu-Heu 
looked a very nasty customer, and the story might 
have a wrong ending; his foot might be set upon my 
breast, and he might be twisting off my head, as in 
the cave picture. Well, in that case the illustrated 
papers would publish nothing about it. 

Then there was the story of the town full of petri¬ 
fied men and animals. This must be either true or 
false, since it lacked ghostly complications. Al- 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 


65 

though I had never heard of anything of the sort, 
there might be such a place, and if so, it would be 
splendid to be its discoverer. 

Oh, of what was I thinking? ZikalPs yarn must be 
nonsense, and rank fiction. Yet it reminded me of 
something that I had heard in my youth, which for 
a long while I could not recall. At last, in a flash, it 
came back to me. My old father, who was a 
learned scholar, had a book of Grecian legends, and 
one of these about a lady called Andromeda, the 
daughter of a king who, in obedience to popular 
pressure and in order to avert calamities from his 
country, tied her up to a rock, to be carried oflF by a 
monster that rose out of the sea. Then a magically 
aided hero of the name of Perseus arrived at the 
critical moment, killed the monster and took away 
the lady to be his wife. 

Why, this Heu-Heu story was the same thing over 
again. The maiden was tied to a rock; the monster 
came out of the sea, or rather, the lake, and carried 
her off, whereby calamities were duly averted. So 
similar was it, indeed, that I began to wonder whether 
it were not an echo of the ancient myth that somehow 
had found its way into Africa. Only hitherto there 
had been no Perseus in Heuheua Land. That role, 
apparently, was reserved for me. And if so, what 
should I do with the maiden? Restore her to a 
grateful family, I suppose, for certainly I had no 
intention of marrying her. Oh, I was growing silly 
with thinking! I would go to sleep; I would , I 
wo - 

A minute or two later, or so it seemed, I woke up 
thinking, not of Andromeda, but of the prophet 
Samuel, and for a while wondered what on earth 
could have put this austere patriarch and priest into 



66 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

my head. Then, being a great student of the OM 
Testament, I remembered that autocratic seer’s 
indignation when he heard the lowing of the oxen 
which Saul spared from the general “eating up” of 
the Amalekites, as the Zulus would describe it, by 
divine command. (What was the use of cutting the 
throats of all that good stock, personally, I could 
never understand.) 

Well, in my ears also was the lowing of oxen, which, 
of course, formed the connecting link. I marvelled 
what they could be, for our own were grazing at a 
little distance, and poked my head out under the 
wagon-hood to perceive a really beautiful team of 
trek cattle, eighteen of them, for there were two 
spare beasts, which had just been driven up to my 
camp by two strange Kaffirs. Then, of course, I 
remembered about the oxen which Zikali promised to 
sell me upon easy terms, or under certain circum¬ 
stances to give me, and thought to myself that in 
this matter, at any rate, he had proved a wizard of his 
word. 

Slipping on my trousers, I descended from the 
wagon to examine them, and with the most satis¬ 
factory results. They had quite recovered from their 
poverty and footsoreness that had caused their 
former owner to leave them behind in Zikali’s charge, 
and were now as fat as butter, looking as though they 
would pull anything anywhere. Indeed, even the 
critical Hans expressed his unqualified approval of the 
beasts which, as he pointed out from various indica¬ 
tions, really seemed to be “salted,” and inoculated 
also, some of them, as could be seen from the loss of 
the ends of their tails. 

Having sent them to graze in charge of the Kaffirs 
who had brought them, for I did not wish them to mix 
with my own beasts, which showed signs of sickness, 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 67 

I breakfasted in excellent spirits, as wherever I might 
go I was now set up with draught beasts, and then 
bethought me of my undertaking to revisit Zikali. 
Hans tried to excuse himself from accompanying me, 
saying that he wanted to study the new oxen which 
those strange Zulus might steal, etc.; the fact being, 
or course, that he was afraid of the old wizard, and 
would not go near him again unless he were obliged. 
However, I made him come, since his memory was 
first rate, and four ears were better than two when 
Zikali was concerned. 

OfF we trudged up the kloof, and as before, without 
delay, were admitted within the fence surrounding the 
witch doctor’s hut, to find the Opener-of-Roads 
seated in front of it, as usual with a fire burning before 
him. However hot the weather, he always kept that 
fire going. 

“What do you think of the oxen, Macumazahn?” 
he asked abruptly. 

I replied with caution that I would tell him after 
I had proved them. 

“Cunning as ever,” said Zikali. “Well, you must 
make the best of them, Macumazahn, and as I told 
you, you can pay me when you get back.” 

“Get back from where?” I asked. 

“From wherever you are going, which at present 
you do not know.” 

“No, I don’t, Zikali,” I said, and was silent. 

He also was silent for a long while, so long that at 
last he outwore my patience, and I inquired sar¬ 
castically whether he had heard from his friend 
Heu-Heu, by bat-post. 

“Yes, yes, I have heard, or think that I have heard 
—not by bats, but perchance by dreams or visions. 
Oho! Macumazahn, I have caught you again. Why 
do you always walk into my snare so easily? You 


68 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

see some bats, which in truth, as I told you, are but 
creatures that I have tamed by feeding them for 
many years, flitter about me and fly away, and you 
half believe that I have sent them a thousand miles to 
carry a message and bring back an answer, which is 
impossible. _ T . « T 

“Now I will tell you the truth. Not thus do 1 com¬ 
municate with those who are afar. Nay, I send out 
my thought and it flies everywhere to the ends of the 
earth, so that the whole earth might read it if it 
could. Yet perchance it is attuned to one mind only 
among the millions, by which mind it can be caught 
and interpreted. But for the vulgar—yes, and even 
for the wise White Man who cannot understand— 
there remains the symbol of the bats and their 
message. Why will you always seek the aid of 
magic to explain natural things, Macumazahn ?” 

Now I reflected that my idea of nature and Zikali’s 
differed, but knowing that he was mocking me after 
his custom, and declining to enter into argument as 
though it were beneath me, I said, 

“All this is so plain that I wonder you waste breath 
in setting it out. I only desired to know if you have 
any answer to your message, however it was sent, and 
if so—what answer.” 

“Yes, Macumazahn, as it happens I have; it came 
to me just as I was waking this morning. This is 
its substance; that the chief of the Walloos, with 
whom my heart talked, and, as he believes, most of his 
people, will be very glad to welcome you in their land, 
though, as he believes again, the priests of Heu-Heu, 
who worship him as a god and are sworn to his ser¬ 
vice, will not be glad. Should you choose to come, 
the chief will give you all that you desire of the river 
diamonds or aught else that he possesses, and you 
can carry away with you, also, the medicine that I 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 69 

desire. Further, he will protect you from dangers 
so far as he is able. Yet for these gifts he requires 
payment.” 

“What payment, Zikali? 

“The overthrow of Heu-Heu at your hands.” 

“And if I cannot overthrow Heu-Heu, Zikali?” 

“Then certainly you will be overthrown and the 
bargain will fall to the ground.” 

“Is it so? Well, if I go, shall I be killed, Zikali?” 

“Who am I that I should dispense life or death, 
Macumazahn? Yet,” he added slowly, separating 
his words by deliberate pinches of snuff—“yet I do 
not think that you will be killed. If I did I should 
not trust you to pay me for those oxen on your return. 
Also I believe that you have much work left to do in 
the world—my work, some of it, Macumazahn, that 
could not be carried out without you. This being so, 
the last thing I should wish would be to send you to 
your death.” 

I reflected that probably this was true, since always 
the old wizard was hinting of some great future enter¬ 
prise in which we should be mixed up together; also 
I knew that he had a regard for me in his own strange 
way, and therefore wished me no evil. Moreover, of 
a sudden a great longing seized me to undertake this 
adventure in which perchance I might see remarkable 
new things—I who was wearying of the old ones. 
However, I hid this, if anything could be hid from 
Zikali, and asked in a businesslike fashion, 

“Where do you want me to go, how far off is it, 
and if I went, how should I get there?” 

“Now we begin to handle our assegais, Macu¬ 
mazahn” (by which he meant that we were coming 
to business). “Hearken, and I will tell you.” 

Tell me he did indeed for over an hour, but I will 
not trouble you fellows with all that he said, since 


7 o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

geographical details are wearisome and I want to get 
on with my story. You, my friend [this was ad¬ 
dressed to me, the Editor], are only stopping here over 
to-morrow night, and it will take me all that time to 
finish it—that is, if you wish to hear the end. 

It is enough to say, therefore, that I had to trek 
about three hundred miles north, cross the Zambesi, 
and then trek another three hundred miles west. 
After this I must travel nor’west for a rather in¬ 
definite distance till I came to a gorge in certain hills. 
Here I must leave the wagon, if by this time I had 
any wagon, and tramp for two days through a water¬ 
less patch of desert till I came to a swamp-like oasis. 
Here the river of which Zikali had spoken lost itself 
in the sands of the desert, whence I should see on a 
clear day the smoke of the volcano of which he had 
also spoken. Crossing the swamp, or making my 
way round it, I must steer for this slope, till at length 
I came to a second gorge in mountains, through which 
the river ran from Heuheua Land out into the 
desert. There, according to Zikali, I should find a 
party of Walloos waiting for me with canoes or boats, 
who would take me on into their country, where 
things would go as they w 7 ere fated. 

Before you leave, my friend, I will give you a 
map* of the route, which I drew after travelling it, in 
case you or anybody else should like to form a com¬ 
pany and go to look for diamonds and fossilized men 
in Heuheua Land, stipulating, however, that you do 
not ask me to take shares in the venture. 


*If Allan ever gave me this map, of which, after the lapse of so many 
years, I am not sure, I have put it away so carefully that it is entirely 
lost, nor do I propose to hunt for it amidst the accumulated corre¬ 
spondence of some five-and-thirty years. Moreover, if it were found and 
published, it might lead to foolish speculation and probable loss of money 
among maiden ladies, the clergy, and other venturesome persons — 
Editor. 



ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 71 

“So that’s the trek,” I said, when at last Zikali 
had finished. “Well, I tell you straight out that I 
am not going to make it through unknown coun¬ 
try. How could I ever find my way without a 
guide? I m off to Pretoria with your oxen or with¬ 
out them.” 

“Is it so, Macumazahn? I begin to think that I 
am very clever. I thought that you would talk like 
that and therefore have made ready by finding a 
man who will lead you straight to the House of 
Heu-Heu. Indeed, he is here, and I will send for 
him,” and he summoned a servant in his usual way 
and gave an order. 

“Whence does he come, who is he, and how long 
has he been here?” I asked. 

“I don’t quite know who he is, Macumazahn, for 
he does not talk much about himself, but I under¬ 
stand that he comes from the neighbourhood of Heu- 
heua Land, or out of it, for aught I know, and he has 
been here long enough for me to be able to teach him 
something of our Zulu language, though that does 
not matter much since you know Arabic well, do you 
not?” 

“I can talk it, Zikali, and so can Hans, a little.” 

“Well, that is his tongue, Macumazahn, or so I 
believe, which will make things easier. I may tell 
you at once that he is a strange sort of man, not in 
the least like any one you would expect, but of that 
you will judge for yourself.” 

I made no answer, but Hans whispered to me that 
doubtless he was one of the children of Heu-Heu 
and just like a great monkey. Although he spoke in 
a very low voice, and at a distance Zikali seemed to 
overhear him, for he remarked, 

“Then you will feel as though you had found a new 
brother, is it not so, Light-in-Darkness?” which, if 


72 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

I have not said so before, was a title that Hans had 
earned upon a certain honourable occasion. 

Thereon Hans grew silent, since he dared not show 
his resentment of this comparison of himself to a 
monkey to the mighty Opener-of-Roads. I, too, was 
silent, being occupied with my own reflections, for 
now, in a flash, as it were, I saw the whole trick 
stripped bare of its mysterious and pseudo-magical 
trappings. A messenger from some strange and 
distant country had come to Zikali, demanding his 
help for reasons that I did not know. 

This he had determined to give through me, whorn 
he thought suited to the purpose. Hence his bribe of 
the oxen, the news of which he had conveyed to me 
while I was still far off, having in some way be¬ 
come acquainted with my dilemma. Indeed, it 
looked as though everything had been part of a plan, 
though of course this was not possible, since Zikali 
could not have arranged that I should take shelter in 
a particular cave during a thunderstorm. 

The sum of it was, however, that I should serve his 
turn, though what exactly that might be I did not 
know. He said that he wanted to obtain the leaves 
of a certain tree, which perhaps was true, but I felt 
sure that there was more behind. 

Possibly his curiosity was excited and he desired 
information about a distant, secret people, since for 
knowledge of every kind he had a perfect lust. Or 
perhaps in some occult fashion this Heu-Heu, if 
there were a Heu-Heu, might be a rival who stood 
between him and his plans, and therefore was one 
to be removed. 

Allowing ninety per cent, of Zikali’s supernatural 
powers to be pure humbug, without doubt the re¬ 
maining ten per cent, were genuine. Certainly he 
lived and moved and had his being upon a different 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 73 

plane from that of ordinary mortals, and was in 
touch with things and powers of which we are 
ignorant. Also as I have reason to know, though 
I do not trouble you with instances, he was in touch 
with others of the same class or hierarchy throughout 
Africa—yes, thousands of miles distant—of whom 
some may have been his friends and some his enemies 
but all were mighty in their way. 

While I was reflecting thus and old Zikali was 
reading my thoughts—as I am sure he did, for I saw 
him smile in his grim manner and nod his great head 
as though in approval of my acumen—the servant 
returned from somewhere, ushering in a tall figure 
picturesquely draped in a fur kaross that covered his 
head as well as his body. Arrived in front of us, this 
person threw off* the kaross and bowed in salutation, 
first to Zikali and then to myself. Indeed, so great 
was his politeness that he even honoured Hans in the 
same way, but with a slighter bow. 

I looked at him in amazement, as well I might, 
since before me stood the most beautiful man that I 
had ever seen. He was tall, something over six feet 
high, and superbly shaped, having a deep chest, a 
sinewy form, and hands and feet that would have 
done credit to a Greek statue. His face, too, was 
wonderful, if rather sombre, perfectly chiselled and 
almost white in colour, with great dark eyes, and 
there was something about it that suggested high and 
ancient blood. He looked, indeed, as though he had 
just stepped straight out of the bygone ages. He 
might have been an inhabitant of the lost continent 
of Atlantis or a sun-burned old Greek, for his hair, 
which was chestnut brown, curled tightly, even where 
it hung down upon his shoulders, though none grew 
upon his chin or about the curved lips. Perhaps 
he was shaven. In short, he was a glorious speci- 


74 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

men of mankind, differing from any other I had 
seen. 

His costume, too, was striking and peculiar, al¬ 
though dilapidated; indeed, it might have been rifled 
from the body of an Egyptian Pharaoh. It consisted 
of a linen robe that seemed to be twisted about him, 
which was broidered at the edges with faded purple, 
a tall and battered linen headdress shaped like the 
lower half of a soda-water bottle reversed and coming 
to a point, a leather apron narrow at the top but 
broadening towards the knees, also broidered, and 
sandals of the same material. 

I stared at him amazed, wondering whether he be¬ 
longed to some people unknown to me, or was another 
of Zikali’s illusions, and so did Hans, for his muddy 
little eyes nearly fell out of his head and he asked me 
in a whisper, 

“Is he a man, Baas, or a spirit?” 

For the rest the stranger wore a plain torque or 
necklet apparently of gold, and about him was 
girdled a cross-hilted sword with an ivory handle and 
a red sheath. 

For a while this remarkable person stood before us, 
his hands folded and his head bent in a humble 
fashion, though it was really I who should have been 
humble, owing to the physical contrast between us. 
Apparently he did not think it proper to speak first, 
while Zikali squatted there grimly, not helping me 
at all. At last, seeing that something must be done, 
I rose from the stool upon which I was seated and 
held out my hand. After a moment’s hesitation the 
splendid stranger took it, but not to shake in the 
usual fashion, for he bent his head and gently 
touched my t fingers with his lips, as though he were a 
French courtier and I a pretty lady. I bowed again 
with the best grace I could command, then putting 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 


75 

my hand in my trouser pocket, said, “How do you 
do?” and as he did not seem to understand, repeated 
it in the Zulu word, “ Sakubona.” This also failing, 

I greeted him in the name of the Prophet in my best 
Arabic. 

Here I struck oil, as an American friend of mine 
named Brother John used to say, for he replied in the 
same tongue, or something like it. Speaking in a soft 
and pleasing voice, but without alluding to the Pro¬ 
phet, he addressed me as “Great Lord Macumazahn, 
whose fame and prowess echo across the earth,” and a 
lot of other nonsense, with which I could see that 
Zikali had stuffed him, that may be omitted. 

“Thank you,” I cut in, “thank you, Mr.-?” 

and I paused. 

“My name is Issicore,” he said. 

“And a very nice name, too, though I never heard 
one like it,” I replied. “Well, Issicore, what can I do 
for you?” An inadequate remark, I admit, but I 
wanted to come to the facts. 

“Everything,” he answered fervently, pressing his 
hands to his breast. “You can save from death a 
most beautiful lady who will love you.” 

“Will she?” I exclaimed. “Then I will have 
nothing to do with that business, which always leads 
to trouble.” 

Here Zikali broke in for the first time, speaking 
very slowly to Issicore in Zulu, which I remem¬ 
bered he said he had been teaching him, and say- 
ing, 

“The Lord Macumazahn is already full of woman s 
love and has no room for more. Speak not to him of 
love, O Issicore, lest you should anger the ghost of 
one who haunts this spot, a certain royal Mameena 
whom once he knew too well.” 

Now I turned upon Zikali, purposing to give him a 


76 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

piece of my mind, when Issicore, smiling a little, 
repeated, 

“Who will love you—as a brother.” 

“That’s better,” I said, “though I don’t know that 
I want to take on a sister at my time of life, but l 
suppose you mean that she will be much obliged?’ 

“That is so, O Lord. Also the reward will be 
great.” 

“Ah!” I replied, really interested. “Now be so 
good as to tell me exactly what you want.” 

Well, to cut a long story short, with variations he 
repeated Zikali’s tale. I was to travel to his remote 
land, bring about the destruction of a nebulous mons¬ 
ter, or fetish, or system of religion, and in payment 
to be given as many diamonds as I could carry. 

“But why can’t you get rid of your own devil?” 
I asked. “You look a warrior and are big and 
strong.” 

“Lord,” he replied gently, spreading out his hands 
in an appealing fashion, “I am strong and I trust 
that I am brave, but it cannot be. No man of my 
people can prevail against the god of my people, 
if so he may be called. Even to revile him openly 
would bring a curse upon us; moreover, his priests 
would murder us-” 

“So he has priests?” I interrupted. 

“Yes, Lord, the god has priests sworn to his ser¬ 
vice, evil men as he is evil. O Lord, come, I beseech 
you, and save Sabeela the beautiful.” 

“Why are you so interested in this lady?” I asked. 

“Lord, because she loves me—not as a brother— 
and I love her. She, the great Lady of my land and 
my cousin, is my betrothed and, if the god is not 
overthrown, as the fairest of all our maidens she will 
be taken by the god.” Here emotion seemed to 
overcome him, very real emotion, which touched me, 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 77 

for he bowed his head and I saw tears trickle down 
from his dark eyes. 

“Hearken, Lord,” he went on, “there is an ancient 
prophecy in my land that this god of ours, whose 
hideous shape hides the spirit of a long-dead chief, 
can only be destroyed by one of another race who can 
see in the night, some man of great valour destined to 
be born in due season. Now through our dream- 
doctors I caused inquiry to be made of this Master of 
Spirits, who is named Zikali, for I was in despair and 
knew what must happen at the appointed time. 
From him I learned that there lived in the south 
such a man as is spoken of in the prophecy and that 
his name meant Watcher-by-Night. Then I dared 
the journey and the curse and came to seek you, 
and lo! I have found you.” 

“Yes,” I answered, “you have found one whose 
native name means Watcher-by-Night, but who can¬ 
not see in the dark better than any one else, and is 
not a hero or very brave, but only a trader and a 
hunter of wild beasts. Yet I tell you, Issicore, that I 
do not wish to interefere with your gods and priests 
and tribal matters, or to give battle to some great ape, 
if it exists, on the chance of earning a pocketful of 
bright stones should I live to take them away, and 
of getting a bundle of leaves that this doctor desires. 
You had better seek some other white man with eyes 
like a cat's and more strength and courage, Issicore.” 

“How can I seek another when, without doubt, you 
are the one appointed, Lord ? If you will not come, 
then I return to die with Sabeela, and all is finished.” 

He paused a few moments, and continued, “Lord, 
I can offer you little, but is not a good deed its own 
reward, and will not the memory of it feed your 
heart through life and death? Because you are 
noble I beseech you to come, not for what you may 


78 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

gain, but just because you are noble and will save 
others from cruelty and wrong. I have spoken— 
choose.’’ 

“Why did you not bring Zikali his accursed leaves 
yourself?” I asked furiously. 

“Lord, I could not come to the place where that 
tree grows in the garden of Heu-Heu; nor, indeed, did 
I know that this Master of Spirits needed that med¬ 
icine. Lord, be noble according to your nature, 
which is known afar.” 

Now I tell you fellows when I heard this I felt 
flattered. We all think that we are noble at times, 
but there are precious few who tell us so, and there¬ 
fore the thing came as a pleasant surprise from this 
extraordinarily dignified, handsome and, it would 
appear in his own fashion, well-educated son of Ham 
—if he were a son of Ham. To my mind, he looked 
more like a prince in disguise, somebody of unknown 
but highly distinguished race who had walked out of 
a fairy book. But when I came to think of it, that 
was exactly what he said he was. Anyway, he was a 
most discriminating person with a singular insight 
into character. (It did not occur to me at the mo¬ 
ment that Zikali was also a discriminating person 
with an insight into character which had induced him 
to bring us two together for secret purposes of his 
own. Or that, in order to impress me, he had stuffed 
Issicore with the story of a predestined white man, 
told of in prophecy, who could see in the dark, as, 
without doubt, he had done.) 

Also the adventure proposed was of an order so 
wild and unusual that it drew me like a magnet. 
Supposing that I lived to old age, could I, Allan 
Quatermain, bear to look back and remember that I 
had turned down an opportunity of that sort and was 
departing into the grave without knowing if there 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 


79 

was or was not a Heu-Heu who snatched away lovely 
Andromedas—I mean Sabeelas—off rocks, and com¬ 
bined in his hideous personality the qualities of a god 
or fetish, a ghost, a devil, and a super-gorilla? 

Could I bury my two humble talents of adventure 
and straight shooting in that fashion? Really, I 
thought not, for if I did, how could I face my own 
conscience in those last failing years? And yet there 
was so much to be said on the other side into which 
I need not enter. In the end, being unable to make 
up my mind, I fell into weakness and determined to 
refer the matter to fate. Yes, I determined to toss 
up, using Hans for the spinning coin. 

“Hans,” I said in Dutch, a tongue which neither of 
the other two understood, “shall we travel to this 
man’s country, or shall we stay in our own? You 
have heard all; speak and I will accept your judg¬ 
ment. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Baas,” said Hans, twirling his hat in his 
vacant fashion, “I understand that the Baas, as is 
usual when he is in a deep pit, seeks the wisdom of 
Hans to get him out—of Hans who has brought him 
up from a child and taught him most of what he 
knows; of Hans upon whom his Reverend Father, the 
Predikant,used to lean as upon a staff, that is, after 
he had made him into a good Christian. But the 
matter is important, and before I give my judgment 
that will settle it one way or another, I would ask a 
few questions.” 

Then he wheeled round, and, addressing the pa¬ 
tient Issicore in his vile Arabic, said, 

“Long Baas with a hooked nose, tell me, do you 
know the way back to this country of yours, and if 
so, how much of it can be travelled in a wagon?” 

“I do,” answered Issicore, “and all of it can be 
travelled in a wagon until the first range of hills is 


80 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

reached. Also along it there is plenty of game and 
water, except in the desert of which you have been 
told. The journey should take about three moons, 
though, myself alone, I accomplished it in two.” 

“Good, and if my Baas, Macumazahn, comes to 
your country, how will he be received?” 

“Well by most of the people, but not well by the 
priests of Heu-Heu, if they think he comes to harm 
the god, and certainly not well by the Hairy Folk who 
live in the forest, who are called the Children of 
the god. With these he must be prepared to war, 
though the prophecy says that he will conquer all of 
them.” 

“Is there plenty to eat in your country, and is 
there tobacco, and something better than water to 
drink, Long Baas?” 

“There is plenty of all these things. There is 
wealth of every kind, O Counsellor of the White 
Lord, and all of them shall be his and yours, though,” 
he added with meaning, “those who have to deal 
with the priests of the god and the Hairy Folk would 
do well to drink water, lest they should be found 
asleep.” 

“Have you guns there?” Hans asked, pointing 
to my rifle. 

“No, our weapons are swords and spears, and the 
Hairy Folk shoot with arrows from bows.” 

Hans ceased from his questions and began to 
yawn as though he were tired, as he did so, staring 
up at the sky where some vultures were wheeling. 

“Baas,” he said, “how many vultures do you 
see up there? Is it seven or eight? I have not 
counted them but I think there are seven.” 

“No, Hans, there are eight; one, the highest, was 
hid behind a cloud.” 

“You are quite sure that there are eight, Baas?” I 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 


81 


“Quite,” I answered angrily. “Why do you ask 
such silly questions when you can count for your¬ 
self?” 

Hans yawned again and said, “Then we will go 
with this fine, hook-nosed Baas to the country of 
Heu-Heu. That is settled.” 

“What the deuce do you mean, Hans? What on 
earth has the number of vultures got to do with the 
matter?” 

“Everything, Baas. You see, the burden of this 
choice was too heavy for my shoulders, so I lifted my 
eyes and put up a prayer to your Reverend Father 
to help me, and in doing so saw the vultures. Then 
your Reverend Father in the heaven above seemed 
to say to me, Tf there are an even number of vul¬ 
tures, Hans, then go; if an odd number, then stop 
where you are. But, Hans, do not count the vultures. 
Make my son, the Baas Allan, count them, for then 
he will not be able to grumble at you if things turn 
out badly whether you go or whether you stay be¬ 
hind, and say that you counted wrong or cheated.’ 
And now, Baas, I have had enough of this, and should 
like to return to our outspan and examine those new 
oxen.” 

I looked at Hans, speechless with indignation. In 
my cowardice I had left it to his cunning and ex¬ 
perience to decide this matter, virtually tossing up, 
as I have said. And what had the little rascal done? 
He had concocted one of his yarns about my poor 
old father and tossed up in his turn, going odd or 
even on the number of the vultures which he made me 
count! So angry was I that I lifted my foot with 
meaning, whereon Hans, who had been expecting 
something of the sort, bolted, and I did not see him 
again until I got back to the camp. 

“Oho! Oho!” laughed Zikali, “Oho!” while 


82 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

the dignified Issicore studied the scene with mild 
astonishment. 

Then I turned on Zikali, saying, “A cheat I have 
called you before, and a cheat I call you again, with 
all your nonsense about bat-messengers and the tale 
you have taught to this man as to a prophecy of his 
people, and the rest. There is the bat who brought 
the message, or the dream, or the vision, or whatever 
you like to call it, and all the while he was hidden 
beneath your eaves,” and I pointed to Issicore. 
“And now I have been tricked into saying that I will 
go upon this fool’s errand, and as I do not turn my 
back upon my word, go I must.” 

“Have you, Macumazahn?” asked Zikali inno¬ 
cently. “You talked with Light-in-Darkness in 
Dutch, which neither I nor this man understood, and 
therefore we did not know what you said. But, as 
out of the honesty of your heart you have told us, we 
understand now, and of course we know, as everyone 
knows, that your word once spoken is worth all the 
writings of all the white men put together, and that 
only death or sickness will prevent you from ac¬ 
companying Issicore to his own country. Oho ho! 
It has all come about as I would have it, for reasons 
with which I will not trouble you, Macumazahn.” 

Now I saw that I was doubly tricked, hit, as it 
were, with the right barrel by Hans and with the left 
by Zikali. To tell the truth, I had quite forgotten that 
he did not understand Dutch, although I remem¬ 
bered it when I began to use that tongue, and that 
therefore it did not in the least matter what I had 
said privately to Hans. But if Zikali did not under¬ 
stand Dutch, of which after all I am not so sure, at 
any rate he understood human nature, and could 
read thoughts, for he went on: 

“Do not boil within yourself, like a pot with a 


ALLAN MAKES A PROMISE 83 

stone on its lid, Macumazahn, because your crafty 
foot has slipped and you have repeated publicly in one 
tongue what you had already said secretly in another, 
and therefore made a promise to both of us. For 
all the while, Macumazahn, you had made that 
promise and your white heart would not have suf¬ 
fered you to swallow it again just because we could 
not hear it with our ears. No, that great white heart 
of yours would have risen into your throat and shut 
it fast. So kick away the burning sticks from be¬ 
neath the water of your anger and let it cease from 
boiling, and go forth as you have promised, to see 
wonderful things and do wonderful deeds and snatch 
the pure and innocent out of the hands of evil gods or 
men/’ 

“Yes, and burn my fingers, scooping your porridge 
out of the blazing pot, Zikali,” I said with a snort. 

“Perhaps, Macumazahn, perhaps, for if I had no 
porridge to be saved, should I have taken all this 
trouble? But what does that matter to you, to the 
brave White Lord who seeks the truth as a thrown 
spear seeks the heart of the foe ? You will find plenty 
of truth yonder, Macumazahn, new truth, and what 
does it matter if the spear is a little red after it has 
reached the heart of things ? It can be cleaned again, 
Macumazahn, it can be cleaned, and amidst many 
other services, you will have done one to your old 
friend, Zikali the Cheat/’ 

Here Allan glanced at the clock and stopped. 

“I say—do you know what the time is?” he said. 
“Twenty minutes past one—by the head of Chaka. 
If you fellows want to finish the story to-night, you 
can do so for yourselves according to taste. I m off, 
or out shooting to-morrow I shan t hit a haystack 
sitting.” 


CHAPTER VI 
The Black River 

On the following evening, pleasantly tired after a 
capital day’s shooting and a good dinner, once more 
the four of us—Curtis, Good, myself (the Editor) and 
old Allan—were gathered round the lire in his com¬ 
fortable den at “The Grange.” 

“Now then, Allan,” I said, “get on with your 
tale.” 

“What tale?” he asked, pretending to forget, for 
he was always a bad starter where his own reminis¬ 
cences were concerned. 

“That about the monkey-man and the fellow who 
looked like Apollo,” answered Good. “I dreamt 
about it all night, and that I rescued the lady—a dark 
girl dressed in blue—and that just as I was about to 
receive a well-earned kiss of thanks, she changed her 
mind and turned into stone.” 

“Which is just what she would have done if she 
had any sense in her head and you were concerned. 
Good,” said Allan severely, adding, “Perhaps it was 
your dream that made you shoot more vilely than 
usual to-day. I saw you miss eight cock pheasants 
in succession at that last corner.” 

“And I saw you kill eighteen in succession at the 
first,” replied Good cheerily, “so you see the average 
was all right. Now then, get on with the romance. 
I like romance in the evening after a dose of the hard 
facts of life in the shapeof impossiblecockpheasants.” 

84 


THE BLACK RIVER 85 

“Romance!” began Allan indignantly. “Am I 
romantic? Pray do not confuse me with yourself. 
Good.” 

Here I intervened imploring him not to waste time 
in arguing with Good, who was unworthy of his no¬ 
tice, and at last, mollified, he began. 

Now I am in a hurry and want to be done with 
this job that dries up my throat—who, having lived 
so much alone, am not used to talking like a politician 
—and makes me drink more whisky and water than I 
ought. You are in a hurry, too, all of you, especially 
Good, who wants to get to the end of the story in or¬ 
der that he may argue about it and try to show that 
he would have managed much better, and you, my 
friend, because you have to leave to-morrow morning 
early and must see to your packing before you get 
to bed. Therefore, I am going to skip a lot, all about 
our journey, for instance, although, in fact, it was one 
of the most interesting treks I ever made, and for 
much of the way through a country that was quite 
new to me, about which one might write a book. 

I will simply say, therefore, that in due course after 
some necessary delay to re-pack the wagon, leaving 
behind all articles that were not wanted in Zikali s 
charge, we trekked from the Black Kloof. T he oxen 
that I had bought—on credit—from Zikali were in 
the yokes, and we drove with us his two extra beasts 
as well as four of the best of my old team to serve as 

spares. . , 

Also I took, in addition to my own driver and voor- 
looper, Mavoon and Induka, two other Zulus, Zikali s 
servants, who I knew would be faithful because they 
feared their terrible master, although I knew also that 
they would spy upon me and, if ever they returned 
alive, make report of everything to him. 


86 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Well, leaving out all the details of this remarkable 
trek in which we met with no fighting, disasters, or 
great troubles and always had plenty to eat, game 
being numerous throughout, I will take up the tale 
on our arrival, safe and sound, at the first line of hills 
that I show upon the map, of which Zikali had spoken 
as bordering the desert. Here we were obliged to 
leave the wagon, for it was impossible to get it over 
the hills or through the desert beyond. 

This, fortunately, we were able to do at a little 
village of peaceable folk who lived in a charming and 
well-watered situation, and, having no near neigh¬ 
bours, were able to cultivate their lands unmolested. 
I placed it in the charge of Mavoon and Induka,whom 
I could trust and who would not run away, also the 
oxen, of which, by good fortune, we had only lost 
three. With them, as Issicore declared that we must 
go on alone, I left Zikali’s servants, knowing that 
they would keep an eye upon my men, and my men 
on them, and promised the headman of the village a 
good present if we found everything safe on our 
return. 

He said that he would do his best, but added im¬ 
pressively—he was a melancholy person—that if we 
were going to the country of Heu-Heu we never 
should return, as it was a land of devils. In that 
event he asked what was to happen to the wagon and 
goods. I replied that I had given orders that if I did 
not reappear within a year, it was to trek back to 
whence we came and announce that we were gone, 
but that he need not be afraid as, being a great magi¬ 
cian, I knew that we should be back long before that 
time. 

He shrugged his shoulders, looking doubtfully at 
Issicore, and there the conversation ended. How¬ 
ever, I persuaded him to lend us three of his people 


THE BLACK RIVER 


87 


to guide us across the mountains and to carry water 
through the desert on the understanding that they 
should be allowed to return as soon as we sighted the 
swamp. Nothing would induce them to go nearer to 
the country of Heu-Heu. 

So in due course off we started, leaving Mavoon 
and Induka almost in tears, for the gloom ot the 
headman had spread to them and they too believed 
that they would see us no more. Hans, it 1S t ^V e ’ 
they never would have missed, since they hated him 
as he hated them, but in my case the matter was 
different because they loved me in their own way. 

Our baggage was light: rifles (I took a double- 
barrelled Express), as much ammunition as we could 
manage, some medicines, blankets, etc., a few spare 
clothes and boots for myself, a couple of revolvers and 
as many vessels of one sort or another as possible to 
carry water, including two paraffin tins slung a 
either end of a piece of wood after the fashion of a 
milkman’s yoke. Also we had tobacco, a good supply 
of matches, candles, and a bundle of dried biltong 
to eat in case we found no game It. doesnt sound 
much, but before we got across that desert lfelt in¬ 
clined to throw away half of it; indeed, I don t th 
we could have got the stuff over the mountam pass 
which proved to be precipitous, without the assistance 
of the three water-bearers. , 

It took us twelve hours to reach and cross that 
mountain’s crest, just beneath which we camped, 
and another six to descend the other side next day. 
At its foot was thin, tussocky grass with occasional 
thorn trees growing in a barren veldt that by degrees 
merged into desert. By the last water we camped 
for the second night; then, having filled up all our 
vessels, started out into the and, sandy wilderness. 


88 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Now, you fellows know what an African desert is, 
for we went through a worse one than this on our 
journey to Solomon’s Mines. Still, the particular 
specimen I am speaking of was pretty bad. To begin 
with, the heat was tremendous. Then, in parts, it 
consisted of rolling slopes or waves of sand, up which 
we must scramble and down which we must slide—a 
most exhausting process. Further, there grew in it 
a variety of thick-leaved plant with sharp spines that, 
if touched, caused a painful soreness, which abomina- 
able and useless growths made it impossible to travel 
at night, or even if the light were low, when they 
could not be seen and avoided. 

We spent three days crossing that wretched desert, 
that had another peculiarity. Here and there in its 
waste, columns of stones, polished by the blowing 
sand, stood up like obelisks, sometimes in one piece, 
monoliths, and sometimes in several, piled on each 
other. I suppose that they were the remains of 
strata: hard cores that had resisted the action of wind 
and water, which in the course of thousands or mil¬ 
lions of years had worn away the softer rock, grinding 
it to dust. 

Those obelisk-like columns gave a very strange 
appearance to that wilderness, suggesting the idea of 
monuments; also, incidentally, they were useful, since 
it was by them that our water-bearing guides, who 
were accustomed to haunt the place to kill ostriches 
or to steal their eggs, steered their path. Of these 
ostriches we saw a good number, which showed that 
the desert could not be so very wide, since in it there 
seemed to be nothing for them to live on, unless they 
ate the prickly plants. There was no other life in 
the place. 

Fortunately, by dint of economy and self-denial, 
our water held out, until on the afternoon of the third 


THE BLACK RIVER 89 

day, as we trudged along parched and weary, from the 
crest of one of the sand waves we saw far off a patch 
of dense green that marked the end, or, rather, the 
beginning, of the swamp. Now our agreement with 
the guides was that when they came in sight of this 
swamp they should return, for which purpose we had 
saved some of the water for them to drink on their 
homeward journey. 

After a brief consultation, however, they deter¬ 
mined to come on with us, and when I asked why, 
wheeled round and pointed to dense clouds that were 
gathering in the heavens behind us. These clouds, 
they explained, foretold a sand tempest in which no 
man could live in the desert. Therefore they urged 
us forward at all speed; indeed, exhausted as we were, 
we covered the last three miles between us and the 
edge of the swamp at a run. As we reached the reeds 
the storm burst, but still we plunged forward through 
them, till we came to a spot where they grew densely 
and where, by digging pits in the mud with our hands, 
we could get water which, thick as it was, we drank 
greedily. Here we crouched for hours while the 

storm raged. , 

It was a terrific sight, for now the face of the desert 
behind was hidden by clouds of driven sand, which 
even among the reeds fell upon us thickly, so that 
occasionally we had to rise to shake its weight ott us. 
Had we still been in the desert, we should have been 
buried alive. As it was we escaped, though halt 
choked and with our skins fretted by the wear ot 
the particles of sand. 

So we squatted all night till before dawn the storm 
ceased and the sun rose in a perfectly clear sky. 
Having drunk more water, of which we seemed to 
need enormous quantities, we struggled back to the 
edge of the swamp and from the crest of a sand wave 



90 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

looked about us. Issicore stretched out his arm 
towards the north and touched me on the shoulder. 
I looked, and far away, staining the delicate blue of 
the heavens, perceived a dark, mushroom-shaped 
patch of vapour. 

“It is a cloud,” I said. “Let us go back to the 
reeds; the storm is returning.” 

“No, Lord,” he answered, “it is the smoke from 
the Fire Mountain of my country.” 

I studied it and said nothing, reflecting, however, 
that in this particular, at any rate, Zikali had not lied. 
If so, was it not possible that he had spoken truth 
about other matters also? If there existed a volcano 
as yet unreported by any explorer, might there not 
also be a buried city filled with petrified people, and 
even a Heu-Heu? No, in Heu-Heu I could not 
believe. 

;v Here, after they had filled themselves and their 
gourds with water, the three natives from the village 
left us, saying that they would go no farther and that 
they could now depart safely as the sandstorm would 
not return for some weeks. They added that our 
magic must be very strong, since had we delayed even 
for a few hours we should certainly all have been 
killed. 

So they departed, and we camped by the reeds, 
hoping to rest after our exhausting journey. In this, 
however, we were disappointed, for as soon as the sun 
went down we became aware that this vast area of 
swampy land was the haunt of countless game that 
came thither, I suppose, from all the country round 
in order to drink and to fill themselves with its suc¬ 
culent growths. 

By the light of the moon I saw great herds of 
elephants appearing out of the shadows and marching 
majestically towards the water. Also there were 


THE BLACK RIVER 


9i 

troops of buffalo, some of which broke out of the reeds 
showing that they had hidden there during the day, 
and almost every kind of antelope in plenty, while in 
the morass itself we could hear sea cows wallowing 
and grunting, and great splashes which I suppose 
were caused by frightened crocodiles leaping into 
pools. 

Nor was this all, since so much animal life upon 
which they could prey attracted many lions that 
coughed and roared and slew according to their na¬ 
ture. Whenever one of them sprang on to some 
helpless buck, a stampede of all the game in the 
neighbourhood would follow. The noise they made 
crashing through the reeds was terrific, so much so 
that sleep was impossible. Moreover, there was al¬ 
ways a possibility that the lions might be tempted to 
try a change of diet and eat us, especially as we had 
no bushes with which to form a boma , or fence. So 
we made a big fire of dry, last year’s reeds, of which, 
fortunately, there were many standing near, and 
kept watch. 

Once or twice I saw the long shape of a lion pass us, 
but I did not fire for fear lest I should wound the 
beast only and perhaps cause it to charge. In short, 
the place was a veritable sportsman’s paradise, and 
yet quite useless from a hunter’s point of view, since, 
if he killed elephants, it would be impossible to carry 
the ivory across the desert, and only a boy desires to 
slaughter game in order to leave it to rot. At dawn, 
it is true, I did shoot a reed'buck for food, which was 
the only shot I fired. 

As amidst all this hubbub the idea of sleep must be 
abandoned, I took the opportunity to question Issi- 
core about his country and what lay before us there. 
During our journey I had not talked much to him on 
the matter, since he seemed very silent and reserved, 


92 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

all his energies being concentrated upon pushing for¬ 
ward as quickly as possible; also, there was no object in 
doing so while we were still far away. Now, however, 

I thought that the time had come for a talk. 

In answer to my queries, he said that if we travelled 
hard, by marching round the narrow western end of 
the swamp, in three days we should arrive at the 
mouth of the gorge down which the river ran that 
flowed through the mountains surrounding his coun¬ 
try. These mountains, I should add, we had sighted 
as a black line in the distance almost as soon as we 
entered the desert, which showed that they were high. 
Here, if we reached it without accident, he hoped to 
find a boat waiting in which we could be paddled to 
his town, though why anybody should be expecting 
us I could not elicit from him. 

Leaving that question unsolved, I asked him about 
this town and its inhabitants. He replied that it was 
large and contained a great number of people, though 
not so many as it used to do in bygone generations. 
The race was dwindling, partly from intermarriage 
and partly because of the terror in which they lived, 
that made the women unwilling to bear children lest 
these should be snatched away by the Hairy Folk who 
dwelt in the surrounding forest, or perhaps sacrificed 
to the god himself. I inquired whether he really 
believed that there was such a god, and he replied 
with earnestness that certainly he did, as once he had 
seen him, though from some way off, and he was 
so awful that description was impossible. I must 
judge of him for myself when we met—an occasion 
that I began to wish might be avoided. 

I cross-examined him persistently about this god, 
but with small result, for the subject seemed to be 
one on which he did not care to dwell. I gathered, 
however, that he, Issicore, had been in a canoe when 


THE BLACK RIVER 


93 


he saw Heu-Heu on a rock at dawn, surrounded by 
women, upon the occasion of some sacrifice, and that 
he had not looked much at him because he was afraid 
to do so. He noted, however, that he was taller than 
a man and walked stiffly. He added that Heu-Heu 
never came to the mainland, though his priests did. 

Then, dropping the subject of Heu-Heu, he went on 
to tell me of the system of government amongst the 
Walloos, which, it appeared, was an hereditary chief¬ 
tainship that could be held either by men or women. 
The present chief, an old man, like the people was 
named Walloo, as indeed were all the chiefs of the 
tribe in succession, for “Walloo” was really a title 
which he thought had come with them from whatever 
land they inhabited in the dark, forgotten ages. He 
had but one child living, a daughter, the lady Sabeela, 
of whom he had spoken to me at the hut of the 
Opener-of-Roads, she who was doomed to sacrifice. 
He, Issicore, was her second cousin, being descended 
from the brother of her grandfather, and therefore of 
the pure Walloo blood. 

“Then if this lady died, I suppose you would be 
the chief, Issicore?” I said. 

“Yes, Lord, by descent,” he answered; “yet per¬ 
haps not so. There is another power in the land 
greater than that of the kings or chiefs—the power of 
the priests of Heu-Heu. It is their purpose, Lord, 
should Sabeela die, to seize the chieftainship for 
themselves. A certain Dacha, who is also of the 
pure Walloo blood, is the chief priest, and he has sons 
to follow him.” 

“Then it is to this Dacha’s interest that Sabeela 
should die?” 

“It is to his interest, Lord, that she should die and 
I also, or, better still, both of us together, for then his 
path would be clear.” 


94 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 


" But what of her father, the Walloo ? He cannot 
desire the death of his only child.” 

“Nay, Lord, he loves her much and desires that 
she should marry me. But, as I have said, he is an 
old man and terror-haunted. He fears the god, who 
already has taken one of his daughters; he fears the 
priests, who are the oracles of the god, and, it is said, 
murdered his son as they have striven to murder me. 
Therefore, being frozen by fear, he is powerless, and 
without his leadership none can act, since all must be 
done in the name of the Walloo and by his authority. 
Yet it was he who sent me to seek for help from the 
great wizard of the South with whom he and his 
fathers have had dealings in bygone years. Yes, be¬ 
cause of the ancient prophecy that the god could only 
be overthrown and the tyranny of the priests be 
broken by a white man from the South, he sent me, 
who am the betrothed of his daughter, secretly and 
without the knowledge of Dacha, and because of 
Sabeela I dared the curse and went, for which deed 
perchance I must pay dearly. He it is also who 
watches for my return.” 

“And if he exists, which you have not proved to 
me, how am I to kill this god, Issicore? By shooting 


“I do not know, Lord. It is believed that he can¬ 
not be harmed by weapons, over whom only fire and 
water have power, since legend tells that he came out 
of the fire and certainly he lives surrounded by water. 
The prophecy does not say how he will be killed by 
the stranger from the South.” 

Now, listening to this weird talk in that wild- 
beast-peopled wilderness from the mouth of a man 
who evidently was very frightened, and wearied as I 
was, I confess that I grew frightened also, and wished 
most heartily that I had never been beguiled into this 


THE BLACK RIVER 95 

adventure. Probably the terrible god, of whom I 
could learn no details, question as I would, was noth¬ 
ing but an invention of the priests, or perhaps one 
of their number disguised. But, however this might 
be, no doubt I was travelling to a fetish-ridden land 
in which witchcraft and murder were rampant; in 
short, one of Satan’s peculiar possessions. Yes, I, 
Allan Quatermain, was brought here to play the part 
of a modern Hercules and clean out this Augean 
stable of bloodshed and superstitions, to say nothing 
of fighting the lion in the shape of Heu-Heu, always 
supposing that there was a Heu-Heu, a creature taller 
than a man that “walked stiffly,” whom Issicore 
believed he had once seen from a distance at dawn. 

However, I was in for it, and to show fear would be 
as useless as it was undignified, since, unless I turned 
and ran back into the desert, which my pride would 
never suffer me to do, I could see no escape. Having 
put my hand to the plough I must finish the furrow. 
So I sat silent, making no comment upon Issicore’s 
rather nebulous information. Only after a while I 
asked him casually when this sacrifice was to take 
place, to which he replied with evident agitation, 

“On the night of the full harvest moon, which is 
this moon, fourteen days from now; wherefore we must 
hurry, since at best it will take us five days to reach 
the town of Walloo, three in travelling round the 
swamp and two upon the river. Do not delay, Lord, 
I pray you do not delay, lest we should be too late 
and find Sabeela gone.” 

“No,” I answered, “I shall not be late, and I can 
assure you, my friend Issicore, that the sooner I am 
through with this business one way or another, the 
better I shall be pleased. And now that all those 
beasts in the swamp seem to have grown a little 
quieter I will try to go to sleep.” 


96 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Happily I was successful in this effort and obtained 
several hours’ sound rest, which I needed sorely, be¬ 
fore the sun appeared and Hans woke me. I rose, 
and, taking my rifle, shot a fat reed-buck, which I 
selected out of a number which stood quite close by, 
a young female off which we breakfasted, for, as you 
know, if the meat of antelopes is cooked before it 
grows cold it is often as tender as though it had been 
hung for a week. The odd thing was that the sound 
of the shot did not seem to disturb the other beasts 
at all; evidently they had never heard anything of the 
sort before, and thought that their companion was 
just lying down. 

An hour later we started on our long tramp round 
the edge of that swamp. I did not like to march 
before for fear lest we should get into complications 
with the herds of elephants and other animals that 
were trekking out of it in all directions with the light, 
though where they went to feed I am sure I do not 
know. In all my life I never saw such quantities 
of game as had collected in this place, which probably 
furnished the only water for many miles round. 

However, as I have said, it was of no use to us, and 
therefore our object was to keep as clear of it as 
possible. Even then we stumbled right on to a sleep¬ 
ing white rhinoceros with the longest horn that ever 
I saw. It must have measured nearly six feet, and 
anywhere else would have been a great prize. For¬ 
tunately the wind was blowing from it to us, so it 
did not smell us and charged oft' in another direction, 
for, as you know, the rhinoceros is almost blind. 

Now I am not going to give all the details of that 
interminable trudge through sand, for in the mud of 
the swamp we could not walk at all. During the day 
we were scorched by the heat and at night we were 
tormented by mosquitoes and disturbed by the noise 


THE BLACK RIVER 


97 

of the game and the roaring of lions, which fortu¬ 
nately, being so full fed, never molested us. By the 
third night, bearing always to the right, we had come 
quite close to the mountain range, which, although it 
was not so very lofty, seemed to be absolutely pre¬ 
cipitous, faced, indeed, by sheer cliffs that rose to a 
height of from five to eight hundred feet. To what 
extraordinary geological conditions these black cliffs 
and the desert by which they were surrounded owe 
their origin, I am sure I do not know- but there they 
were, and no doubt are. 

Before sunset on this third day, by Issicore’s direc¬ 
tion, we collected a huge pile of dried reeds, which we 
set upon the crest of a sand mound, and after dark 
fired them, so that for a quarter of an hour or so they 
burned in a bright column of flame. Issicore gave 
no explanation of this proceeding, but as Hans re¬ 
marked, doubtless it was a signal to his friends. Next 
morning, at his request, we started on before the 
dawn, taking our chance of meeting with elephants or 
buffaloes, and at sunrise found ourselves right under 
the cliffs. 

An hour later, following a little bay in them where 
there was no swamp, because here the ground rose 
of a sudden we turned a corner and perceived a 
tall, white-robed man with a big spear standing upon 
a rock, evidently keeping a look-out. As soon as he 
saw us he leapt down from his rock with the agility 
of a klip-springer and came towards us. 

After one curious glance at me he went straight to 
Issicore, knelt down and, taking his hand, pressed it 
to his forehead, which showed me that our guide was 
a venerated person. Then they conversed together 
in low tones, after which Issicore came to me and said 
that so far all was well, as our fire had been seen and 
a big canoe awaited us. We went on, guided by the 


98 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

sentry, and after one turn suddenly came on quite a 
large river, which had been hidden by the reeds. To 
the left appeared this deep, slow-flowing river; to the 
right, within a hundred paces, indeed, it changed into 
swamp or morass, of which the pools were fringed 
with very tall and beautiful papyrus plants, such 
open water as there was being almost covered by 
every kind of wild fowl that rose in flocks with a 
deafening clamour. This stream, the Black River, 
as the Walloos called it, was bordered on either side 
by precipices through which I suppose it had cut its 
way in the course of millenniums, so high and impend¬ 
ing that they seemed almost to meet above, leaving 
the surface of the water nearly dark. It was a stream 
gloomy as the Roman Styx, and, glancing at it, I 
half expected to see Charon and his boat approaching 
to row us to the Infernal fields. Indeed, into my 
mind there floated a memory of the poet’s lines, which 
I hope I quote correctly: 

In Kubla Khan a river ran 

Through caverns measureless to man, 

Down to a sunless sea. 

I confess honestly that the aspect of the place filled 
me with fear: it was forbidding—indeed, unholy— 
and I marvelled what kind of a sunless sea lay beyond 
this hell gate. Had I been alone, or with Hans only, 
I admit that I should have turned tail and marched 
back round that swamp, upon which, at any rate, the 
sun shone, and, if I could, across the desert beyond to 
where I had left the wagon. But in the presence of 
the stately Issicore and his myrmidon, this I could 
not do because of my white man’s pride. No, I must 
go on to the end, whatever it might be. 

If I was frightened, Hans was much more so, for 
his teeth began to chatter with terror. 


THE BLACK RIVER 


99 

“Oh, Baas,” he said, “if this is the door, what 
will the house beyond be like?” 

“That we shall learn in due course,” I answered, 
“so there is no good in thinking about it.” 

“Follow me, Lord,” said Issicore, after some 
further talk with his companion. 

I did so, accompanied by Hans, who stuck to me as 
closely as possible. We advanced round the rock 
and discovered a little indent in the bank of the river 
where a great canoe, hollowed apparently from a 
single huge tree, or rather its prow, was drawn up on 
the sandy shore. In this canoe sat sixteen rowers or 
paddle-men—I remember there were sixteen of them 
because at the time Hans remarked that the number 
was the same as that of a wagon team and subse¬ 
quently called these paddlers “water oxen.” 

As we approached they lifted their paddles in 
salute, apparently of Issicore, since of me and my 
companion, except by swift, surreptitious glances, 
they took no notice. 

With a kind of silent, unobtrusive haste Issicore 
caused our small baggage, which consisted chiefly of 
cartridge bags, to be stowed away in the prow of the 
canoe that for a few feet was hollowed out in such a 
fashion that it made a kind of cupboard roofed with 
solid wood, and showed us where to sit. Next he 
entered it himself, while the lookout man ran down 
the canoe and took hold of the steering oar. 

Then at a word all the paddlers back-watered and 
the craft slid off* the sandy beach into the river which 
was full to the banks, almost in flood indeed. It 
seemed that here the rain had been nearly incessant 
for some months and the lowering sky showed that 
ere long there was much more to come. 


CHAPTER VII 
The Walloo 

In perfect stillness, except for the sound of the dip¬ 
ping of the paddles in the water, we glided away very 
swiftly up the placid river. I think that nothing 
upon this strange journey, or at any rate during the 
first part of it, struck me more than its quietness. 
The water was still, flowing peacefully between its 
rocky walls towards the desert in which it would be 
lost, just as the life of some good old man flows to¬ 
wards death. The rocky precipices on either side 
were still; they were so steep that on them nothing 
which breathed could find a footing, except bats, 
perhaps, that do not stir in the daytime. The riband 
of grey sky above us was still, though occasionally a 
draught of air blew between the cliffs with a moaning 
noise, such as one might imagine to be caused by the 
passing wind of spiritual wings. But stillest of all 
were those rowers who for hour after hour laboured 
at their task in silence, and with a curious intentness, 
or, if speak they must, did so only in a whisper. 

Gradually an impression of nightmare stole over 
me; I felt as though I were a sleeper taking part in 
the drama of a dream. Perhaps, in fact, this was so, 
since I was very tired, having rested but little for a 
good many nights and laboured hard during the day 
trudging through the sand with a heavy rifle and a 
load of cartridges upon my back. So really I may 
have been in a doze, such as is easily induced in any 


IOO 


THE WALLOO 


IOI 


circumstances by the sound of lapping water. If so, 
it was not a pleasant dream, for the titanic surround¬ 
ings in which I found myself and the dread possi¬ 
bilities of the whole enterprise oppressed my spirit 
with a sensation of departure from the familiar 
things of life into something unholy and unknown. 

Soon the cliffs grew so high and the light so faint 
that I could only just see the stern, handsome faces 
of the rowers appearing as they bent forward to their 
ordered stroke, and vanishing into the gloom as they 
leant back after it was accomplished. The very 
regularity of the effort produced a kind of mesmeric 
effect which was unpleasant. The faces looked to me 
like those of ghosts peeping at one through cracks of 
the curtains round a bed, then vanishing, continually 
to return and peep again. 

I suppose that at last I went to sleep in good earn¬ 
est. It was a haunted sleep, however, for I dreamed 
that I was entering into some dim Hades where all 
realities had been replaced by shadows, strengthless 
but alarming. 

At length I was awakened by the voice of Issicore, 
saying that we had come to the place where we must 
rest for the night, as it was impossible to travel in the 
dark and the rowers were weary. Here the cliffs 
widened out a little, leaving a strip of shore upon 
either side of the river, upon which we landed. By 
the last light that struggled to us from the line of sky 
above we ate such food as we had, supplemented by 
biscuits of a sort that were carried in the canoe, for 
no fire was lighted. Before we had finished, dense 
darkness fell upon us, for the moonbeams were not 
strong enough to penetrate into that place, so that 
there was nothing to be done except lie down upon 
the sand and sleep with the wailing of the night air 
between the cliffs for lullaby. 


102 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

The night passed somehow. It seemed so long that 
I began to think or dream that I must be dead and 
waiting for my next incarnation, and when occasion¬ 
ally I half woke up, was only reassured by hearing 
Hans at my side muttering prayers in his sleep to my 
old father, of which the substance was that he should 
be provided with a half-gallon bottle of gin! At last 
a star that shone in the black riband far above van¬ 
ished and the riband turned blue, or, rather, grey, 
which showed that it was dawn. We rose and 
stumbled into the canoe, for it was impossible to see 
where to place our feet, and started. Within a few 
hundred yards of our sleeping place suddenly the 
cliffs that hemmed in the river widened out, so that 
now they rose at a distance of a mile or more from 
either bank flat, water-levelled land. 

These banks, which here were steep, were clothed 
with great, dark-coloured, spreading trees of which 
the boughs projected far over the water and cut off 
the light almost as much as the precipices had done 
lower down the stream. Thus we still travelled in 
gloom, especially as the sun was not yet up. Pres¬ 
ently through this gloom, to which my trained eyes 
had grown accustomed, I thought that I caught sight 
of tall, dark-hued figures moving between the trees. 
Sometimes these figures seemed to stand upright and 
walk upon their feet, and sometimes to run swiftly 
upon all fours. 

“Look, Hans,” 1 whispered—everyone whispered 
in that place—“there are baboons!” 

“Baboons, Baas!” he answered. “Were ever 
baboons such a size? No, they are devils.” 

Now from behind me Issicore also whispered, 

“They are the Hairy Men who dwell in the forest, 
Lord. Be silent, I pray you, lest they should attack 
us.” 


THE WALLOO 103 

Then he began to consult with the rowers in low 
tones, apparently as to whether we should go on or 
turn back. Finally we went on, paddling at a double 
pace. A moment later a sound arose in that dim 
forest, a sound of indescribable weirdness that was 
half an animal grunt and half a human cry, which to 
my ears shaped itself into the syllables, Heu-Heu! 
In an instant it was taken up upon all sides, and from 
everywhere came this wail of Heu-Heu! which was so 
horrid to hear that my hair stood up even straighter 
than usual. Listening to it, I understood whence 
came the name of the god I had travelled so far to 
visit. 

Nor was this all, for there followed heavy splashes 
in the water, like to those made by plunging croco¬ 
diles, and in the deep shadow beneath the spreading 
trees I saw hideous heads swimming towards us. 

“The Hairy Folk have smelt us,” whispered Issi- 
core again, in a voice that I thought perturbed. “Do 
nothing, Lord; they are very curious. Perhaps when 
they have looked they will go away.” 

“And if they don’t?” I asked—a question to which 
he returned no answer. 

The canoe was steered over towards the left bank 
and driven forward at great speed with all the 
strength of the rowers. Now in the space of open 
water, upon which the light began to shine more 
strongly, I saw a beast-like, bearded head that yet 
undoubtedly was human, yellow-eyed, thick-lipped, 
with strong, gleaming teeth, coming towards us at 
the speed of a very strong swimmer, for it had en¬ 
tered the water above us and was travelling down¬ 
stream. It reached us, lifted up a powerful arm that 
was completely covered with brown hair like to that 
of a monkey, caught hold of the gunwale of the boat 
just opposite to where I sat, and reared its shoulders 


I04 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

out of the water, thereby showing me that its great 
body was for the most part also covered with long 

ha Now its other hand was also on the gunwale, and it 
stood in the water, resting on its arms, the hideous 
head so close to me that its stinking breath blew into 
my face. Yes, there it stood and jabbered at me. i 
confess that I was terrified who never before had seen 
a creature like this. Still, for a while I sat quiet. 

Then of a sudden I felt that I could bear no more, 
who believed that the brute was about to get into the 
boat, or perhaps to drag me out of it. I lost control 
of myself, and drawing my heavy hunting-knife—the 
one you see on the wall there, friends I struck at 
the hand that was nearest. The blow fell upon the 
fingers and cut one of them right off so that it fell into 
the canoe. With an appalling yell the man or beast 
let go and plunged into the water, where I saw him 
waving his bleeding hand above his head. 

Issicore began to say something to me in frightened 
tones, but just then Hans ejaculated, 

“ Allemaghter! here’s another!” and a second huge 
head and body reared itself up, this time on his side. 

“Do nothing!” I heard Issicore exclaim. But the 
appearance of the creature was too much for Hans, 
who drew his revolver and fired two shots in rapid 
succession into its body. It also tumbled back into 
the water, where it began to wallow, screaming, but 
in a thinner voice. I thought, and rightly, that it 
must be a female. . 

Before the echo of the shots had died away there 
rose another hideous chorus of Heu-Heus and other 
cries, all of them savage and terrible. From both 
banks more of the creatures precipitated themselves 
into the water, but luckily not to attack us because 
they were too much occupied with the plight of their 


THE WALLOO 


105 

companion. They congregated round her and dragged 
her to the shore. Yes, I saw them lift the body out of 
the stream, for by this time I was sure from its hanging 
arms and legs that it was dead, an act which showed 
me that although they had the shape and the cover¬ 
ing of beasts, in fact they were human. 

“ Elephants will do as much,” interrupted Curtis. 

“Yes,” said Allan, “that is true. Sometimes they 
will; I have seen it twice. But everything about 
the behaviour of those Hairy Men was human. For 
instance, their wailing over the dead, which was 
dreadful and reminded me of the tales of banshees. 
Moreover, I had not far to look for proof. At my 
feet lay the finger that I had cut off. It was a human 
finger, only very thick, short, and covered with hair, 
having the nail worn down, too, doubtless in climbing 
trees and grubbing for roots.” 

Even then with a shock I realized that I had stum¬ 
bled on the Missing Link, or something that re¬ 
sembled it very strongly. Here in this unknown spot 
still survived a people such as were our forefathers 
hundreds of thousands or millions of years ago. 
Also I reflected that I ought to be proud, for I had 
made a great discovery, although, to tell the truth, 
just then I should have been quite willing to resign 
its glory to someone else. 

After this I began to reflect upon other things, for 
a large jagged stone whizzed within an inch of my 
head, and presently was followed by a rude arrow 
tipped with fish bone that stuck in the side of the 
canoe. 

Amidst a shower of these missiles, which fortun¬ 
ately, beyond a bruise or two, did us no harm, we 
headed out into mid-stream again where they could 


io6 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

not reach us, and as no more of the Hairy People 
swam from the banks to cut us off, soon were pur¬ 
suing our way in peace. For once, however, the 
imperturbable Issicore was much disturbed. He 
came forward and sat by me and said: 

“A very evil thing has happened, Lord. You have 
declared war upon the Hairy Men, and the Hairy 
Men never forget. It will be war to the end. 

“I can’t help it,” I answered feebly, for I was sick 
with the sight and sound of those creatures. Are 
there many of them, and are they all over your 

country?” , , t j 

“A good many, perhaps a thousand or more, Lora, 

but they only live in the forests. You must never go 
into the forest, Lord, at any rate, not alone; or onto 
the island where Heu-Heu lives, for^he is their king 
and keeps some of them about him. „ 

“I have no present intention of doing so, I 

Now, as we went, the cliffs receded farther and 
farther from the river, till at length they ceased 
altogether. We were through the lip of the moun¬ 
tains, if I may so call it, and had entered a stretch 
of unbroken virgin forest, a veritable sea of great 
trees that occupied the rich land of the plain and 
grew to an enormous size and tallness. Moreover, 
before us appeared clearly the cone of the volcano, 
broad but of no great height, over which hung the 
mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke. 

All day long we travelled up this tranquil river, 
rejoicing in the comparative brightness in its centre, 
although, of course, the trees upon either edge over¬ 
hung it much. . i - , . 

Late in the afternoon a bend of the banks brought 
us within sight of a great sheet of water from which 
apparently the river issued, although, as I learned 


THE WALLOO 107 

afterwards, it flowed into it upon the other side, from 
I know not whence. This lake—for it was a big lake 
many miles in circumference—surrounded an island 
of considerable size, in the centre of which rose the 
volcano, now a mere grey-hued mountain that looked 
quite harmless, although over it hung that ominous 
cloud of smoke which, oddly enough, one could not 
see issuing from its crest. I suppose that it must 
have gone up in steam and condensed into smoke 
above. At the foot of the mountain, upon a plain 
between it and the lake, with the help of my glasses 
I could see what looked like buildings of some size, 
constructed of black stone or lava. 

“They are ruins,” said Issicore, who had observed 
that I was examining them. “Once the great city 
of my forefathers stood yonder until the fire from the 
mountain destroyed it.” 

“Then does nobody live on the island now?” I 
asked. 

“The priests of Heu-Heu live there, Lord. Also 
Heu-Heu himself lives there in a great cave upon the 
farther side of the mountain, or so it is said, for none 
of us has ever visited that cave, and with him some 
of the Hairy People who are his servants. My grand¬ 
father did so, however, and saw him there. Indeed, 
as I have told you, once I saw him myself; but what 
he looked like you must not ask me, Lord, for I do 
not remember,” he added hastily. “In front of the 
cave is his garden, where grows the magic tree of 
which the Master of Spirits yonder in the South 
desires leaves to mix with his medicines: the tree 
that gives dreams with long life and vision.” 

“Does Heu-Heu eat of this tree?” I asked. 

“I do not know, but I know that he eats the flesh of 
beasts, because of these we must make offerings to 
him, and sometimes of men, or so it is said. Near 


io8 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

the foot of the garden burn the eternal fires, and be¬ 
tween them is the rock upon which the offerings are 

Now I thought to myself I should much like to see 
this place of which it was evident that Issicore knew 
or would tell very little, where there was a.great cave 
in which dwelt a reputed demon with his slaves and 
hierophants; and where too grew a tree supposed to 
be magical, flanked by eternal fires. What were these 
eternal fires, I wondered. I could only suppose that 
they had something to do with the volcano. 

As it happened, however, whilst I was preparing to 
question Issicore upon the subject, we passed round a 
tree-clad headland, for here the river had widened 
into a kind of estuary, and on the shore of the bay 
beyond it discovered a town of considerable size, 
covering several hundred acres of ground. The 
houses of this town, most of which stood in their own 
gardens, though some of the smaller ones were ar¬ 
ranged in streets, had an Eastern appearance, inas¬ 
much as they were low and flat-roofed. 

Only there was this difference: Eastern houses of 
the primitive sort as a rule are whitewashed, but these 
were all black, being built of lava, as I discovered 
afterwards. All round the town also, except on the 
lake side, ran a high wall likewise of black stone, the 
presence of which excited my curiosity and caused 
me to inquire its object. 

“It is to defend us from the Hairy Folk who attack 
by night,” answered Issicore. “ In the daylight they 
never come, and therefore our fields beyond are not 
walled,” and he pointed to a great stretch of culti¬ 
vated land that I suppose had been cleared of trees, 
which extended for miles into the surrounding forest. 

Then he went on to explain that they laboured 
there while the sun was up and at nightfall returned 


THE WALLOO 


109 


to the town, except certain of them who slept in forts 
or blockhouses to guard the crops and cattle kraals. 

Now I looked at this place and thought to myself 
that never in my life had I seen one more gloomy, 
especially in the late afternoon under a sullen, rain¬ 
laden sky. The black houses, the high black walls that 
reminded me of a prison, the black waters of the lake, 
the outlook on to the black volcano and the black 
mass of the forest behind, all contributed to this 
effect. 

“Oh, Baas, if I lived here I should soon go mad!” 
said Hans, and upon my word, I agreed with him. 

Now we paddled towards the shore, and presently 
ran alongside a little jetty formed of stones loosely 
thrown together, on which we landed. Evidently 
our approach had been observed, for a number of 
people—forty or fifty of them, perhaps—were collected 
at the shore end of the jetty awaiting us. A glance 
showed me that although of varying ages and both 
sexes, in type they all resembled our guide, Issicore. 
That is to say, they were tall, well-shaped, light- 
coloured and extremely handsome, also clothed in 
white robes, while some of the men wore hats of the 
Pharaonic type that I have described. The women’s 
headdress, however, consisted of a close-fitting linen 
cap with lappets hanging down on either side, and 
was extraordinarily becoming to their severe cast of 
beauty. From what race could this people have 
sprung, I wondered. I had not the faintest idea; 
to me they looked like the survivals of some ancient 
civilization. 

Conducted by Issicore, we advanced, carrying our 
scanty baggage, a forlorn and battered little company. 
As we drew near, the crowd separated into two lines, 
men to the right and women to the left, like the 
congregation in a very high church, and stood quite 


no 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

silent, watching us intently with their large, melan¬ 
choly eyes. Never a word did they say as we passed 
between them, only watched and watched till I felt 
quite nervous. They did not even offer any greeting 
to Issicore, although it seemed to me that he had 
earned one after his long and dangerous journey. 

I observed, however, although at the time I took 
little notice of the matter, and afterwards forgot all 
about it until Hans brought the circumstance back to 
my mind, that a certain dark man of austere coun¬ 
tenance, clothed rather differently from the rest, 
approached Issicore, addressed him, and thrust some¬ 
thing into his hand. Issicore glanced at this ob¬ 
ject, whatever it might be, and distinctly I saw him 
tremble and turn pale. Then he hid it away, saying 
nothing. 

Turning to the right, we marched along a roadway 
that bordered the lake, which was constructed about 
twelve feet above its level, perhaps to serve as a 
protection against inundation, till we came to a wall 
in which was a door built of solid balks of wood. This 
door opened as we approached, and, passing it, we 
found ourselves in a large garden cultivated with taste 
and refinement, for in it were beds of flowers, the only 
cheerful thing I ever saw in this town that, it ap¬ 
peared, was named Walloo after the tribe or its ruler. 
At the end of the garden stood a long, solid, flat- 
roofed house built of the prevailing lava rock. 

Entering, we found ourselves in a spacious room 
which, as dusk was gathering, was lit with cresset¬ 
like lamps of elegant shape placed upon pedestals cut 
from great tusks of ivory. 

In the centre of this room were two large chairs 
made of ebony and ivory with high backs and foot¬ 
stools, and in these chairs sat a man and a woman 
who were well worth seeing. The man was old, for 


THE WALLOO 


hi 


his silver hair hung down upon his shoulders, and his 
fine, sad face was deeply wrinkled. 

At a glance I saw that he must be the king or chief, 
because of his dignified if somewhat senile appearance. 
Moreover, his robes, with their purple borders, had a 
royal look, and about his neck he wore a heavy chain 
of what seemed to be gold, while in his hand was 
a black staff tipped with gold, no doubt his sceptre. 
For the rest, his eyes had a rather frightened air, and 
his whole aspect gave an idea of weakness and 
indecision. 

The woman sat in the other chair with the light 
from one of the lamps shining full upon her, and I 
knew at once that she must be the Lady Sabeela, the 
love of Issicore. No wonder that he loved her, for 
she was beautiful exceedingly; tall, well developed, 
straight as a reed, great-eyed, with chiselled features 
that were yet rounded and womanly, and wonder¬ 
fully small hands and feet. She, too, wore purple- 
bordered robes. About her waist hung a girdle thickly 
sewn with red stones that I took to be rubies, and 
upon her shapely head, serving as a fillet for her 
abundant hair, which flowed down her in long waving 
strands of a rich and ruddy hue of brown or chestnut, 
was a simple golden band. Except for a red flower 
on her breast she wore no other ornament, perhaps 
because she knew that none was needed. 

Leaving us by the door of the chamber, Issicore 
advanced and knelt before the old man, who first 
touched him with his staff and then laid a land upon 
his head. Presently he rose, went to the lady and 
knelt before her also, whereon she stretched out her 
fingers for him to kiss, while a look of sudden hope 
and joy, which even at that distance I could distin¬ 
guish, gathered on her face. He whispered to her for a 
while, then turned and began to speak earnestly to 


112 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

her father. At length he crossed the room, came to 
me and led me forward, followed by Hans at my.heels. 

“O Lord Macumazahn,” he said, “here sit the 
Walloo, the Prince of my people, and his daughter, 
the Lady Sabeela. O Prince my cousin, this is the 
white noble famous for his skill and courage, whom 
the Wizard of the South made known to me and who 
at my prayer, out of the goodness of his heart, has 
come to help us in our peril.” 

“I thank him,” said the Walloo in the same dialect 
of Arabic that was used by Issicore.^ “I thank him 
in my own name, in that of my daughter who now 
alone is left to me, and in the name of my people.” 

Here he rose from his seat and bowed to me with a 
strange and foreign courtesy such as I had not known 
in Africa, while the lady also rose and bowed, or rather 
curtseyed. Seating himself again, he said, 

“Without doubt you are weary and would rest and 
eat, after which perchance we may talk.” 

Then we were led away through a door at the end 
of the great room into another room that evidently 
had been prepared for me. Also there was a place 
beyond for Hans, a kind of alcove. Here water, 
which I noticed had been warmed—an unusual thing 
in Africa—was brought in a large earthenware vessel 
by two quiet women of middle age, and with it an 
undershirt of beautiful fine linen which was laid upon 
a bed, or cushioned couch, that was arranged upon 
the floor and covered by fur rugs. 

I washed myself, pouring the warm water into a 
stone basin that was set upon a stand, and put on 
the shirt, also the change of clothes that I had with 
me, and, with the help of Hans and a pair of pocket 
scissors, trimmed my beard and hair. Scarcely had 
I finished when the women reappeared, bringing food 
on wooden platters—roast lamb, it seemed to be— 


THE WALLOO 


113 

and with it drink in jars of earthenware that were of 
elegant shape and powdered all over with the little 
rough diamonds of which Zikali had given me speci¬ 
mens, that evidently had been set in it in patterns 
before the clay dried. This drink, by the way was a 
kind of native beer, sweet to the taste but pleasant 
and rather strong, so that I had to be careful lest 
Hans should take too much of it. 

After we had finished our meal, which was very 
welcome, for we had eaten no properly cooked food 
since we left the wagon, Issicore arrived and took us 
back to the large room, where we found the Walloo 
and his daughter seated as before, with several old 
men squatting about them on the ground. A stool 
having been set for me the talk began. 

I need not enter into all its details, since in sub¬ 
stance they set out what I had already heard from 
Issicore; namely, that there dwelt Something or 
Somebody on the island in the lake who required 
annually the sacrifice of a beautiful virgin. This was 
demanded through the head priest of a college, also 
established on the island which acknowledged the be¬ 
ing, real or imaginary, that lived there as its god or 
fetish. Further, that creature (if he existed) was said 
to be the king of all the Hairy Folk who inhabited 
the forests. Lastly, there was a legend that he was 
the reincarnation of some ancient monarch of the 
Walloo folk, who had come to a bad end at the hands 
of his indignant subjects at some date undefined. 
Walloo, it seemed, was their correct name, that of 
Heuheua applying only to the Hairy Men of the 
woods. 

This story I dismissed at once, being quite con¬ 
vinced that it was only a variant of a very common 
African fable. Doubtless Heu-Heu, if there really 
were a Heu-Heu, was the ruler of the savage hairy 


11 4 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

aboriginals of the place that once in the far past had 
been conquered by the invading Walloo, who poured 
into the country from the north or west, being them¬ 
selves the survivors of some civilized but forgotten 
people. This conclusion, I may add, I never found 
any reason to doubt. Africa is a very ancient land, 
and in it once lived many races that have vanished, or 
survive only in a debased condition, dwindling from 
generation to generation until the day of their extinc¬ 
tion comes. # # 

Here I may state briefly the final opinions at which 
I have arrived about this people. 

Almost certainly these Walloos were such a dying 
race, hailing, as names among them seemed to sug¬ 
gest from some region in West Africa, where their 
forefathers had been highly civilized. Thus, al¬ 
though they could not write, they had traditions of 
writing and even inscriptions graven upon stones, of 
which I sawseveral in a character that I did not know, 
though to me it had the look of Egyptian hiero¬ 
glyphics. Also they still had knowledge of certain 
cultured arts such as the weaving of fine linen, 
the carving of wood and marble, the making of 
pottery, and the smelting of metals with which their 
land abounded, including gold that they found in 
little nuggets in the gravel of the streams. 

Most of these crafts, however, were dying out ex¬ 
cept those that were necessary to life, such as the 
moulding of pottery and the building of houses and 
walls, and particularly agriculture, in which they 
were very proficient. When I saw them all the 
higher arts were practised only by very old men. 
As they never intermarried with any other blood, 
their hereditary beauty, which was truly remarkable, 
remained to them, but owing to the causes I have 
mentioned already, the stock was dwindling, the 


THE WALLOO 


ii5 

total population being now not more than half of 
what it was within the memory of the fathers of their 
oldest men. Their melancholy, which now had 
become constitutional, doubtless was induced by 
their gloomy surroundings and the knowledge that 
as a race they were doomed to perish at the hands of 
the savage aboriginals who once had been their slaves. 

Lastly, although they retained traces of some 
higher religion, since they made prayer to a Great 
Spirit, they were fetish-ridden and believed that they 
could continue to exist only by making sacrifice to a 
devil who, if they neglected to do so, would crush 
them with misfortunes and give them over to de¬ 
struction at the hands of the dreadful Forest-dwellers. 
Therefore they, or a section of them, became the 
priests of this devil called Heu-Heu, and thereby 
kept peace between them and the Hairy Men. 

Nor was this the end of their troubles, since, as 
Issicore had told me, these priests, after the fashion 
of priests all the world over, now aspired to the abso¬ 
lute rule of the race, and for this reason plotted the 
extinction of the hereditary chief and all his family. 

Such, in substance, was the lugubrious story that 
the unhappy Walloo poured into my ears that night, 
ending it in these words, 

“Now you will understand, O Lord Macumazahn, 
why in our extremity and in obedience to the ancient 
prophecy, which has come down to us from our 
fathers, we communicated with the great Wizard of 
the South, with whom we had been in touch in an¬ 
cient days, praying him to send us the helper of the 
prophecy. Behold, he has sent you and now I im¬ 
plore you to save my daughter from the fate that 
awaits her. I understand that you will require pay¬ 
ment in white and red stones, also in gold and ivory. 
Take as much as you want. Of the stones there are 


n6 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

jars full hidden away and the fences of some of my 
courtyards at the back of this house are made of 
tusks of ivory, though it is black with age, and I 
know not how you would carry it hence. Also there 
is a quantity of gold melted into bars, which my 
grandfather caused to be collected, whereof we make 
little use except now and again for women’s orna¬ 
ments, but that, too, would be heavy to carry across 
the desert. Still, it is all yours. Take it. Take 
everything you wish, only save my daughter.” 

“We will talk of the reward afterwards,” I said, 
for my heart was touched at the sight of the old 
man’s grief. “Meanwhile, let me hear what can 
be done.” 

“Lord, I do not know,” he answered, wringing his 
hands. “The third night from this is that of full 
moon, the full moon which marks the beginning of 
harvest. On that night we must carry my daughter, 
on whom the lot has fallen, to the island in the lake 
where stands the smoking mountain and bind her to 
the pillar upon the Rock of Offering that is set 
between the two undying fires. There we must leave 
her, and at the dawn, so it is said, Heu-Heu himself 
seizes her and carries her into his cavern, where she 
vanishes for ever. Or, if he does not come, his priests 
do, to drag her to the god, and we see her no more.” 

“Then why do you take her to the island ? Why do 
you not call your people together and fight and kill 
this god or his priests?” 

“Lord, because not one man among us, save per¬ 
haps Issicore yonder, who can do nothing alone, 
would lift a hand to save her. They believe that if 
they did the mountain would break into flames, as 
happened in the bygone ages, turning all upon whom 
the ashes fell into stone; also that the waters would 
rise and destroy the crops, so that we must die of 


THE WALLOO 


n 7 

starvation, and that any who escaped the fire and 
the water and the want would perish at the hands 
of the cruel Wood-devils. Therefore, if I ask the 
Walloos to save the maiden from Heu-Heu, they 
will kill me and give her up in accordance with the 
law.” 

“I understand,” I said, and was silent. 

“Lord,” went on the old Walloo presently, “here 
with me you are safe, for none of my people will harm 
you or those with you. But I learn from Issicore that 
you have stabbed a Hairy Man with a knife, and that 
your servant slew one of their women with the strange 
weapons that you carry. Therefore, from the Wood- 
devils you are not safe, for, if they can, they will 
kill you both and feast upon your bodies.” 

“That’s cheerful,” I thought to myself, but made 
no further answer, for I did not know what to say. 

Just then the Walloo rose from his chair, saying 
that he must go to pray to the spirits of his ancestors 
to help him, but that we would talk again upon the 
morrow. After this he bade us good-night and de¬ 
parted without another word, followed by the old 
men, who all this while had sat silent, only nodding 
their heads from time to time like porcelain images of 
Chinese mandarins. 


CHAPTER VIII 
The Holy Isle 

When the door had closed behind him, I turned to 
Issicore and asked him straight out if he had any plan 
to suggest. He shook his noble-looking head and 
answered, “None,” as it was impossible to resist both 
the will of the people and the law of the priests. 

“Then what is the use of your having brought me 
all this way?” I inquired with indignation. “Can¬ 
not you think of some scheme? For instance, would 
it not be possible for you and this lady to fly with us 
down the river and escape to a land which is not full 
of demons?” 

“It would not be possible,” he answered in a melan¬ 
choly voice. “Day and night we are watched and 
should be seized before we had travelled a mile. 
Moreover, could she leave her father, and could I 
leave all my relations to be murdered in payment for 
our sacrilege?” 

“Have you no thought in your mind at all?” I 
asked again. “Is there nothing that would save the 
Lady Sabeela?” 

“Nothing, Lord, except the end of Heu-Heu and 
his priests. It is to you, great Lord, that we look 
to find a way to destroy them, as the prophecy de¬ 
clares will be done by the White Deliverer from the 
South.” 

“Oh, dash the prophecy! I never knew prophecies 
to help anybody yet,” I ejaculated in English, as I 

118 


THE HOLY ISLE 


119 

contemplated that beautiful but helpless pair. Then 
I added in Arabic, “I am tired and am going to bed. 
I hope that I shall find more wisdom in my dreams 
then I do in you, Issicore,” I added, staring at the 
man in whom I seemed to detect some subtle change, 
some access of fatalistic helplessness, even of despair. 

Now Sabeela, seeing that I was angry, broke in, 

“O Lord, be not wrath, for we are but flies in the 
spider’s web, and the threads of that web are the 
priests of Heu-Heu, and the posts to which it is fixed 
are the beliefs of my people, and Heu-Heu himself is 
the spider, and in my breast his claws are fixed.” 

Now, listening to her allegory, I thought to myself 
that a better one might have been drawn from a 
snake and a bird, for really, like the rest of them, this 
poor girl seemed to be mesmerized with terror and to 
have made up her mind to sit still waiting to be struck 
by the poisoned fangs. 

“Lord,” she went on, “we have done all we could. 
Did not Issicore make a great journey to find you? 
Yes, did he not even dare the curse which falls upon 
the heads of those who try to leave our country, and 
travel south to seek the counsel of the Great Wizard, 
who once sent messengers here to obtain the leaves of 
the tree that grows in Heu-Heu’s garden, the tree 
that makes men drunk and gives them visions?” 

“Yes,” I answered, “he did that, Lady, and might 
I say to you that his health seems none the worse. 
Those curses of which you speak have not hurt him.” 

“It is true they have not hurt his body—yet,” she 
said in a musing voice, as though a new thought had 
struck her. 

“Well, if that is true, Sabeela, may it not be true 
also that all this talk about the power of Heu-Heu is 
nonsense? Tell me, have you ever spoken with or 
seen Heu-Heu?” 


i2o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“No, Lord, no, though unless you can save me I 
shall soon see him.” 

“Well, and has any one else?” 

“No, Lord, no one has ever spoken with him, ex¬ 
cept, of course, his priests, such as my distant cousin, 
Dacha, who is the head of them, but whom I used to 
know before he was chosen by Heu-Heu to be of their 
company.” 

“Oh! So no one has seen him? Then he must 
be a very secret kind of god who does not take exer¬ 
cise, but lives, I understand, in a cave with priests.” 

“I did not say that no one had ever seen Heu-Heu, 
Lord. Many say that they have seen him, as Issicore 
has done, when he came out of the cave on a Night 
of Offering, but of what they saw it is death to speak. 
Ask me and Issicore no more of Heu-Heu, Lord I 
pray you, lest the curse should fall. It is not lawful 
that we should tell you of him, whose secrets are 
sacred even to his priests,” she added with agitation. 

Then in despair I gave up asking questions about 
Heu-Heu and inquired how many priests he had. 

“About twenty, I believe, Lord,” she answered, 
ceasing from evasions, “not counting their wives and 
families, and it is said that they do not live with 
Heu-Heu in the cave, but in houses outside of it.” 

“And what do they do when they are not worship¬ 
ping Heu-Heu, Sabeela?” 

“Oh, they cultivate the land and they rule the Wild 
People of the Woods, who, it is believed, are all Heu- 
Heu’s children. Also they come here and spy on us.” 

“Do they indeed?” I remarked. “And is it true 
that they hope to rule over you Walloos also?” 

“Yes, I believe that it is true. At least, should 
my father die and I die, it is said that Dacha means 
to make war upon the Walloos and take the chieftain¬ 
ship, setting aside or killing my cousin and betrothed 


THE HOLY ISLE 121 

Issicore. For Dacha was always one who desired to 
be first.” 

“So you used to know Dacha pretty well, Lady?” 

“Yes, Lord, when I was quite young before he 
became a priest. Also,” she added, colouring, “I 
have seen him since he became a priest.” 

“And what did he say to you?” 

“He said that if I would take him for a husband 
perhaps I should escape from Heu-Heu.” 

“And what did you answer, Lady?” 

“Lord, I answered that I would rather go to Heu- 
Heu.” 

“Why?” 

“Because Dacha, it is reported, has many wives 
already. Also I hate him. Also from Heu-Heu at 
the last I can always escape.” 

“How?” 

“By death, Lord. We have swift poison in this 
country, and I carry some of it hidden in my hair,” 
she added with emphasis. 

“Quite so. I understand. But, Lady Sabeela, as 
you have been so good as to ask my advice about 
these matters, I will give you some. It is that you 
should not taste that poison till all else has failed and 
there is no escape. While we breathe there is hope, 
and all that seems lost still may be won, but the dead 
do not live again, Lady Sabeela.” 

“I hear and will obey you, Lord,” she answered, 
weeping. “Yet sleep is better than Dacha or Heu- 
Heu.” 

“And life is better than all three of them put to¬ 
gether,” I replied, “especially life with love.” 

Then I bowed myself off* to bed, followed by Hans, 
also bowing—like a monkey for pennies on a barrel- 
organ. At the door I looked back, and saw these two 
poor people in each other’s arms, thinking, doubtless, 



122 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

that we were already out of sight of them. Yes, her 
head was upon Issicore’s shoulder, and from the con¬ 
vulsive motions of her form I guessed that she was 
sobbing, while he tried to console her in the ancient, 
world-wide fashion. I only hope that she got more 
comfort from Issicore than I did. To me now he 
seemed to be but a singularly unresourceful member 
of a played-out race, though it is true that he had 
courage, since otherwise he would not have attempted 
the journey to Zululand. Also, as I have said, quite 
suddenly he had changed in some subtle fashion. 

When we were in our own room with the door 
bolted (it had no windows, light and ventilation be¬ 
ing provided by holes in the roof) I gave Hans some 
tobacco and bade him sit down on the other side of 
the lamp, where he squatted upon the floor like a 
toad. 

“Now, Hans,” I said, “tell me all the truth of this 
business and what we are to do to help this pretty 
lady and the old chief, her father.” 

Hans looked at the roof and looked at the wall; 
then he spat upon the floor, for which I reproved him. 

“Baas,” he said at length, “I think the best thing 
we can do is to find out where those bright stones 
are, fill our pockets with them, and escape from this 
country which is full of fools and devils. I am sure 
that Beautiful One would be better off* with the priest 
called Dacha, or even with Heu-Heu, than with 
Issicore, who now has become but a carved and 
painted lump of wood made to look like a man.” 

“Possibly, Hans, but the tastes of women are 
curious, and she likes this lump of wood, who, after 
all, is brave, except where ghosts and spirits are con¬ 
cerned. Otherwise he would not have journeyed so 
far for her sake. Moreover, we have a bargain to 
keep. What should we say to the Opener-of-Roads 


THE HOLY ISLE 


123 


if we returned, having run away and without his 
medicine? No, Hans, we must play out this game.” 

“Yes, Baas, I thought that the Baas would say 
that because of his foolishness. Had I been alone, 
by now, or a little later, I should have been in that 
canoe going down-stream. However, the Baas has 
settled that we must save the lady and give her to the 
Lump of Wood for a wife. So now I think I will go 
to sleep, and to-morrow or the next day the Baas can 
save her. I don’t think very much of the beer in 
this country, Baas—it is too sweet; and all these 
handsome fools who talk about devils and priests 
weary me. Also, it is a bad climate and very damp. 
I think it is going to rain again, Baas.” 

Having nothing else at hand, I threw my tobacco- 
pouch at Hans’s head. He caught it deftly, and, in 
an absent-minded fashion, put it into his own pocket. 

“If the Baas really wishes to know what I think,” 
he said, yawning, “it is that the medicine man named 
Dacha wants the pretty lady for himself; also to rule 
alone over all these dull people. As for Heu-Heu, 
I don’t know anything about him, but perhaps he is 
one of those Hairy Men who came here at the be¬ 
ginning of the world. I think that the best thing we 
can do, Baas, would be to take a boat to-morrow 
morning and go to that island, where we can find out 
the truth for ourselves. Perhaps the Lump of Wood 
and some of his men can row us there. And now 
I have nothing more to say, so, if the Baas does not 
mind, I will go to sleep. Keep your pistol ready. 
Baas, in case any of the Hairy People wish to call 
upon us—just to talk about the one I shot. 

Then he retired to a corner, rolling himself up in a 
skin rug, and presently was snoring, though, as I 
knew well enough, with one eye open all the time. 
No Hairy Man, or any one else, would have come 


124 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

near that place without Hans hearing him, for his 
sleep was like to that of a dog who watches his mas¬ 
ter. 

As I prepared to follow his example, I reflected that 
his remarks, casual as they seemed, were full of wis¬ 
dom. These folk were superstition-ridden fools and 
useless; probably the only ones that had wits among 
them became priests. But the Hairy aboriginals 
were an ugly fact, as the priests knew, since ap¬ 
parently they had obtained rule over them. For the 
rest, the only thing to do was to visit the Holy Island 
and find out the truth for ourselves, as Hans had 
said. It would be dangerous, no doubt, but at the 
least it would also be exciting. 

Next morning I rose after an excellent night's rest 
and found my way into the garden, where I amused 
myself by examining the shrubs and flowers, some of 
which were strange to me. Also I studied the sky, 
which was heavy and lowering, and seemed full of 
rain. I could study nothing else because the high 
wall cut off the view upon every side so that little 
was to be seen except tne top of the volcano, which 
rose from the lake at a distance of several miles, for 
it was a large sheet of water. Presently the door of 
the garden opened and Issicore appeared, looking 
weary and somewhat bewildered. It occurred to me 
that he had been sitting up late with Sabeela. As 
they were to be parted so soon, naturally they would 
see as much as they could of each other. Or for 
aught I knew, he might have been praying to his 
ancestral spirits and trying to make up his mind what 
to do, no doubt a difficult process under the circum¬ 
stances. I went to the point at once. 

“Issicore," I said, “as soon as possible after break¬ 
fast, will you have a canoe ready to take me and Hans 
to the island in the lake?" 


THE HOLY ISLE 125 

“To the island in the lake, Lord!” he exclaimed, 
amazed. “Why, it is holy!” 

“I daresay, but I am holy also, so that if I go there 
it will be holier.” 

Then he advanced all kinds of objections, and even 
brought out the Walloo and his grey-heads to re¬ 
inforce his arguments. Hans and Sabeela also 
joined the party; the latter, I noted, looking even 
more beautiful by day than she did in the lamplight. 
Sabeela, indeed, proved my only ally, for presently, 
when the others had talked themselves hoarse, she 
said, 

“The White Lord has been brought hither that we, 
who are bewildered and foolish, may drink of the 
cup of his wisdom. If his wisdom bids him visit the 
Holy Isle, let him do so, my father.” 

As no one seemed to be convinced, I stood silent, 
not knowing what more to say. Then Hans took up 
his parable, speaking in his bad coast-Arabic: 

“ Baas, Issicore, although he is so big and strong, 
and all these others are afraid of Heu-Heu and his 
priests. But we, who are good Christians, are not 
afraid of any devils because we know how to deal 
with them. Also we can paddle, therefore let the 
Chief give us quite a small canoe and show us which 
way to row, and we will go to the island by our¬ 
selves.” # 

In sporting parlance, this shot hit the bull in the 
eye, and Issicore, who, as I have said, was a brave 
man at bottom, fired up and answered, 

“Am I a coward that I should listen to such words 
from your servant, Lord Macumazahn? I and some 
others whom I can find will row you to the island, 
though on it we will not set our foot because it is not 
lawful for us to do so. Only, Lord, if you come back 
no more, blame me not.” 


126 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“Then that is settled,” I replied quietly, “and now, 
if we may, let us eat, for I am hungry.” 

About two hours later we started from the quay, 
taking with us all our small possessions, down to some 
spare powder in flasks which we had brought to re¬ 
load fired cartridge cases, for Hans refused to leave 
anything behind with no one to watch it. The canoe 
which was given to us was much smaller than that 
in which we had come up the river, though, like it, 
hollowed from a single log; and its crew consisted of 
Issicore, who steered, and four other Walloos, who 
paddled, stout and determined-looking fellows, all of 
them. The island was about five miles away, but we 
made a wide circuit to the south, I suppose in the 
hope of avoiding observation, and therefore it took us 
the best part of two hours to reach its southern shore. 

As we approached I examined the place carefully 
through my glasses, and observed that it was much 
larger than I had thought—several miles in circum¬ 
ference, indeed, for in addition to the central volcanic 
cone there was a great stretch of low-lying land 
all round its base, which land seemed not to rise more 
than a foot or two above the level of the lake. In 
character, except on these flats by the lake, it was 
stony and barren, being, in fact, strewn with lumps of 
lava ejected from the volcano during the last erup¬ 
tion. 

Issicore informed me, however, that the northern 
part of the island where the priests lived, which had 
not been touched by the lava stream, was very fertile. 
I should add that the crater of the volcano seemed to 
bear out his statement as to the direction of the flow, 
since on the south it was blown away to a great depth, 
whereas the northern segment rose in a high and per¬ 
fect wall of rock. 


12 7 


THE HOLY ISLE 

The day was very misty—a circumstance which 
favoured our approach—and the sky, which, as I 
have said, was black and pregnant with coming rain, 
seemed almost to touch the crest of the mountain. 
These conditions, until we were quite close, prevented 
us from seeing that a stream of glowing lava, not 
very broad, was pouring down the mountain-side. 
When they discovered this, the Walloos grew much 
alarmed, and Issicore told me that such a thing had 
not been known “for a hundred years/’ and that 
he thought it portended something unusual, as the 

mountain was supposed to be “asleep.” 

“It is awake enough to smoke, anyway,” I an¬ 
swered, and continued my examination. . 

Among the stones, and sometimes half-buried by 
them, I saw what appeared to be the remains of those 
buildings of which I have spoken. These, Issicore 
said, had once been part of the city of his forefathers, 
adding that, as he had been told, in some of them the 
said forefathers were still to be seen turned into stone, 
which, you will remember, exactly bore out Zikali’s 

story. . , 

Anything more desolate and depressing than the 
aspect of this place seen on that grey day and be¬ 
neath the brooding sky cannot be imagined. Still 1 
burned to examine it, for this tale of fossilized people 
excited me, who have always loved the remains of 
antiquity and strange sights. . 

Forgetting all about Heu-Heu and his priests tor 
the moment, I told the Walloos to paddle to the 
shore, and, after a moment of mute protest, they 
obeyed, running into a little bay. Hans and 1 
stepped easily on to the rocks and, carrying our bags 
and rifles, started on our search. First, however, we 
arranged with Issicore that he should await our re¬ 
turn and then row us back round the island so that we 


128 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

might have a view of the priests’ settlement. With 
a sigh he promised to do so, and at once paddled out 
to about a hundred yards from the shore, where the 
canoe was anchored by means of a pierced stone tied 
to a cord. 

Off went Hans and I towards the nearest group of 
ruins. As we approached them, Hans said, 

“Look out, Baas! There’s a dog between those 
rocks.” 

I stared at the spot he indicated, and there, sure 
enough, saw a large grey dog with a pointed muzzle, 
which seemed to be fast asleep. We drew nearer, 
and as it did not stir, Hans threw a stone and hit it on 
the back. Still it did not stir, so we went up and 
examined it. 

“It is a stone dog,” I said. “The people who 
lived here must have made statues,” for as yet I did 
not believe the stories I had heard about petrified 
creatures, which, after all, must be very legendary. 

“If so, Baas, they put bones into their carvings. 
Look,” and he touched one of the dog’s front paws 
which was broken off. There, in the middle of it, 
appeared the bone fossilized. Then I understood. 

The animal had been fleeing away to the shore when 
the poisonous gases overcame it at the time of the 
eruption. After this, I suppose, some rain of petrify¬ 
ing fluid had fallen on it and turned it into stone. It 
was a marvellous thing, but I could not doubt the 
evidence of my own eyes. All the tale was true, and 
I had made a great discovery. 

We hurried on to the houses, which, of course, now 
were roofless, and in some instances choked with lava, 
though the outer walls, being strongly built of rock, 
still stood. On certain of these walls were the faint 
remains of frescoes; one of people sitting at a feast, 
another of a hunting scene, and so forth. 


129 


THE HOLY ISLE 

We passed on to a second group of buildings stand¬ 
ing at some distance against the flank of the mountain 
and more or less protected by an overhanging ledge 
or shelf of stone. These appeared to have been a 
palace or a temple, for they were large, with stone 
columns that had supported the roofs. We went on 
through the great hall to the rooms behind, and in the 
furthermost, which was under the ledge of rock and 
probably had been used as a store chamber, we saw 
an extraordinary sight. 

There, huddled together, and in some instances 
clasping each other, were a number of people, twenty 
or thirty of them—men, women, and children—all 
turned to stone. Doubtless the petrifying fluid had 
flowed into the chamber through cracks in the rock 
above and done its office on them. They were naked, 
every one, which suggested that their clothing had 
either been burnt off them or had rotted away before 
the process was complete. The former hypothesis 
seemed to be borne out by the fact that none of 
them had any hair left upon their heads. The 
features were not easy to distinguish, but the general 
type of the bodies was certainly very similar to that 
of the Walloos. 

Speechless with amazement, we emerged from that 
death chamber and wandered about the place. Here 
and there we found the bodies of others who had 
perished in the great catastrophe and once came 
across an arm projecting from a mass of lava, which 
seemed to show that many more were buried under¬ 
neath. Also we found a number of fossilized goats 
in a kraal. What a place to dig in! I thought to 
myself. Given some spades^ picks, and blasting- 
powder, what might one not find in these ruins? 

All the relics of a past civilization, perhaps—its 
inscriptions, its jewellery, the statues of its gods; 


i 3 o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

even, perhaps, its domestic furniture buried beneath 
the lava and the dust, though probably this had 
rotted. Here, certainly, was another Pompeii, and 
perhaps beneath that another Herculaneum. 

Whilst I mused thus over glories passed away and 
wondered when they had passed, Hans dug me in 
the ribs and, in his horrible Boer Dutch, ejaculated a 
single word, “Kek /” which, as perhaps you know, 
means “Look!” at the same time nodding towards 
the lake. 

I did look, and saw our canoe paddling for all it was 
worth, going “hell for leather,” as my old father used 
to say, towards the Walloo shore. 

“Now why is it doing that?” I asked. 

“I expect because something is behind it, Baas,” 
he replied with resignation, then sat down on a rock, 
pulled out his pipe, filled it, and lit a match. 

As usual,' Hans was right, for presently from round 
the curve of the island there appeared two other 
canoes, very large canoes, rowing after ours with 
great energy and determination, and, as I guessed, 
with malignant intent. 

“I think those priests have seen our boat and 
mean to catch it, if they can,” remarked Hans, 
spitting reflectively, “though as Issicore has got a 
long start, perhaps they won’t. And now, Baas, 
what are we to do? We can’t live here with dead 
men, and stone goat is not good to eat.” 

I considered the situation, and my heart sank into 
my boots, for the position seemed desperate. A 
moment before I had been filled with enthusiasm over 
this ruined city and its fossilized remains. Now I 
hated the very thought of them, and wished that they 
were at the bottom of the lake. Thus do circum¬ 
stances alter cases and our poor variable human 
moods. Then an idea came to me, and I said boldly, 


THE HOLY ISLE 


131 

“Do! Why, there is only one thing to do. We 
must go to call on Heu-Heu, or his priests.” 

“Yes, Baas. But the Baas remembers the picture 
in the cave on the Berg. If it is a true picture, 
Heu-Heu knows how to twist off men’s heads!” 

“I don’t believe there is a Heu-Heu,” I said 
stoutly. “You will have noticed, Hans, that we 
have heard all sorts of stories about Heu-Heu, but 
that no one seems to have seen him clearly enough to 
give us an accurate description of what he is like or 
what he does—not even Zikali. He showed us a 
picture of the beast on his fire, but after all it was 
only what we had seen on the wall of the cave, and I 
think that he got it out of our own minds. At any 
rate, it is just as well to die quickly without a head, as 
slowly with an empty stomach, since I am sure those 
Walloos will never come back to look for us.” 

“Yes, Baas, I think so, too. Issicore used to 
have courage, but he seems to have changed, as 
though something had happened to him since he got 
back into his own country. And now, if the Baas is 
ready, I think we had better be trekking, unless, 
indeed, he would like to look at a few more stone men 
first. It is beginning to rain, Baas, and we have 
been much longer here than the Baas thinks, since it 
is a slow business crawling about these old houses. 
Therefore, if we are to get to the other side of the 
island before nightfall, it is time to go.” 

So off we went, keeping to the western side of the 
volcano, since there it did not seem to project so far 
into the flat lands. A while later we turned round 
and looked at the lake. There in the far distance our 
canoe appeared a mere speck, with two other specks, 
those of the pursuers, close upon its heels. As we 
watched, out of the mists on the Walloo shore came 
yet other specks, which were doubtless Walloo boats 


i 3 2 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

paddling to the rescue, for the priests’ canoes gave up 
the chase and turned homewards. 

“Issicore will have a very nice story to tell to the 
Lady Sabeela,” said Hans; “but perhaps she will not 
kiss him after she has heard it.” 

“He was quite wise to go. What good could he 
have done by staying?” I answered, as we trudged 
on, adding, “Still, you are right, Hans; Issicore has 
changed.” 

It was a hard walk over that rough ground, at least 
at first, for so soon as we got round the shoulder of 
the volcano the character of the country altered and 
we found ourselves in fertile, cultivated land that 
appeared to be irrigated. 

“These fields must lie very low, Baas,” said Hans, 
“since otherwise how do they get the lake water on 
to them?” 

“ I don’t know,” I replied crossly, for I was think¬ 
ing of the sky water, which was beginning to descend 
in a steady drizzle upon ourselves. But all the same, 
the remark stuck in my mind and was useful after¬ 
wards. On we marched, till at length we entered a 
grove of palm trees that was traversed by a road. 

Presently we came to the end of the road and 
found ourselves in a village of well-built stone houses, 
with one very large house in the middle of it, of which 
the back was set almost against the foot of the moun¬ 
tain. As there was nothing else to be done, we 
walked on into the village, at first without being 
observed, for everybody was under cover because of 
the rain. Soon, however, dogs began to bark, and a 
woman, looking out of the doorway of one of the 
houses, caught sight of us and screamed. A minute 
later men with shaven heads and wearing white, 
priestly-looking robes, appeared and ran towards us 
flourishing big spears. 


THE HOLY ISLE 


i 33 


“Hans,” I said, “keep your rifle ready, but don't 
shoot unless you are obliged. In this case, words 
may serve us better than bullets.” 

“Yes, Baas, though I don't believe that either 
will serve us much.” 

Then he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree that 
lay by the roadside, and waited, and I followed his 
example, taking the opportunity to light my pipe. 






CHAPTER IX 
The Feast 

When they were within a few paces of us the men 
halted, apparently astonished at our appearance, 
which certainly did not compare favourably with 
their own, for they were all of the splendid Walloo 
type. Evidently what astonished them still more 
was the match with which I was lighting my pipe, 
and indeed the pipe itself, for although these people 
grew tobacco, they only took it in the form of snuff. 

That match went out and I struck another, and at 
the sight of the sudden appearance of fire they 
stepped back a pace or two. At length one of them, 
pointing to the burning match, asked in the same 
tongue that was used by the Walloos; 

“What is that, O Stranger?” 

“Magic fire,” I answered, adding by an inspi¬ 
ration, “which I am bringing as a present to the great 
god Heu-Heu.” 

This information seemed to mollify them, for, 
lowering their spears, they turned to speak to another 
man who at this moment arrived upon the scene. He 
was a stout, fine-looking man of considerable pres¬ 
ence, with a hooked nose and flashing black eyes. 
Also he wore a priestly cap upon his head and his 
white robes were broidered. 

“Very big fellow, this, Baas,” Hans whispered to 
me, and I nodded, observing as I did so that the 
other priests bowed as they addressed him. 

134 


THE FEAST 


135 

“Dacha in person,” thought I to myself, and sure 
enough Dacha it was. 

He advanced and, looking at the wax match, said: 

“Where does the magic fire of which you speak 
live, Stranger?” 

“In this case covered with holy secret writing,” I 
replied, holding before his eyes a box labelled “Wax 
Vestas, Made in England,” and adding solemnly, 
“Woe be to him that touches it or him that bears it 
without understanding, for it will surely leap forth 
and consume that foolish man, O Dacha.” 

Now Dacha followed the example of his com¬ 
panions and stepped back a little way, remarking, 

“How do you know my name, and who sends this 
present of self-conceiving fire to Heu-Heu?” 

“Is not the name of Dacha known to the ends of 
the earth?” I asked—a remark which seemed to 
please him very much; “yes, as far as his spells can 
travel, which is to the sky and back again. As to 
who sends the magic fire, it is a great one, a wizard of 
the best, if not quite so good as Dacha, who is named 
Zikali, who is named the ‘Opener-of-Roads,’ who 
is named ‘the Thing-that-should-never-have-been- 
born. ”’ 

“We have heard of him,” said Dacha. “His 
messengers were here in our fathers’ day. And what 
does Zikali want of us, O Stranger?” 

“He wants leaves of a certain tree that grows in 
Heu-Heu’s garden, that is called the Tree of Visions, 
that he may mix them with his medicines.” 

Dacha nodded and so did the other priests. Evi¬ 
dently they knew all about the Tree of Visions, as I, 
or rather Zikali, had named it. 

“Then why did he not come for them himself?” 

“Because he is old and infirm. Because he is 
detained by great affairs. Because it was easier for 


136 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

him to send me, who, being a lover of that which is 
holy, was anxious to do homage to Heu-Heu and to 
make the acquaintance of the great Dacha.” 

“I understand,” the priest replied, highly gratified, 
as his face shewed. “But how are you named, 0 
Messenger of Zikali?” 

“I am named ‘Blowing-Wind/ because I pass 
where I would, none seeing me come or go, and 
therefore am the best and swiftest of messengers. 
And this little one, this small but great-souled one 
with me”—here I pointed to the smirking Hans, who 
by now was quite alive to the humours of the situ¬ 
ation and to its advantages from our point of view— 
“is named ‘Lord-of-the-Fire’ and ‘Light-in-Dark- 
ness’” (this was true enough and worked in very 
well) “because it is he who is guardian of the magic 
lire” (also true, for he had half a dozen spare boxes 
in his pockets that he had stolen at one time or 
another) “of which, if he is offended, he can make 
enough to burn up all this island and everyone 
thereon; yes, more than is hidden in the womb of 
that mountain.” 

“Can he, by Heu-Heu!” said Dacha, regarding 
Hans with great respect. 

“Certainly he can. Mighty though I be, I must 
be careful not to anger him lest myself I should be 
burnt to cinders.” 

At this moment a doubt seemed to strike Dacha, 
for he asked * 

“Tell me, O Blowing-Wind and O Lord-of-Fire, 
how you came to this island? We observed a canoe 
manned with some of our rebellious subjects who 
serve that old usurper the Walloo, which is being 
hunted that they may be killed for their sacrilege in 
approaching this holy place. Were you perchance 
in that canoe?” 


THE FEAST 


i37 


“We were,” I answered boldly. “When we ar¬ 
rived at yonder town I met a lady, a very beautiful 
lady, named Sabeela, and asked her where dwelt the 
great Dacha. She said here—more, that she knew 
you and that you were the most beautiful and 
noblest of men, as well as the wisest. She said also 
that with some of her servants, including a stupid 
fellow called Issicore, of whom she never can be rid 
wherever she goes, she herself would paddle us to 
the island on the chance of seeing your face again.” 
(I may explain to you fellows that this lie was per¬ 
fectly safe, as I knew Issicore and his people had 
escaped.) “So she brought us here and landed us 
that we might look at the ruined city before coming 
on to see you. But then your people roughly hunted 
her away, so that we were obliged to walk to your 
town. That is all.” 

Now Dacha became agitated. “I pray Heu-Heu,” 
he said, “that those fools may not have caught and 
killed her with the others.” 

“I pray so also, since she is too fair to die,” I 
answered, “who would be a lovely wife for any man. 
But stay, I will tell you what has chanced. Lord-of- 
the-Fire, make fire.” 

Hans produced a match and lit it on the seat of his 
trousers, which was the only part of him that was not 
damp. He held it in his joined hands and I stared at 
the flame, muttering. Then he whispered: 

“Be quick, Baas, it is burning my fingers!” 

“All is well,” I said solemnly. “The canoe with 
Sabeela the Beautiful escaped your people, since 
other canoes, seven—no, eight of them,” I corrected, 
studying the ashes of the match, also the blister on 
Hans’s finger, “came out from the town and drove 
yours away just as they were overtaking the Lady 
Sabeela.” 


138 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 


This was a most fortunate stroke, for at that mo¬ 
ment a messenger arrived and gave Dacha exactly 
the same intelligence, which he punctuated with 
many bows. 

“Wonderful!” said the priest. “Wonderful! 
Here we have magicians indeed!” and he stared at us 
with much awe. Then again a doubt struck him. 

“Lord,” he said, “Heu-Heu is the ruler of the 
savage Hairy People who live in the woods and 
are named Heuheuas after him. Now a tale has 
reached us that one of these people has been mysteri¬ 
ously killed with a noise by some strangers. Had 
you aught to do with her death, Lord?” 

“Yes,” I answered. “She annoyed the Lord-of- 
the-Fire with her attentions, so he slew her, as was 
right and proper. I cut off the finger of another who 
wished to shake hands with me when I had told him 
to go away.” 

“But how did he slay her, Lord?” 

Now I may explain that there was one inhabitant 
of this place that greeted us with no cordiality at all, 
namely a large and particularly ferocious dog, that 
all this while had been growling round us and finally 
had got hold of Hans’s coat, which it held between 
its teeth, still growling. 

“ Scheet! Hans, cheet seen dood /” (“Shoot! 
Hans, shoot him dead!”) I whispered, and Hans, 
who was always quick to catch an idea, put his hand 
into his pocket where he kept his pistol, and pressing 
the muzzle against the brute’s head, fired through 
the cloth, with the result that this dog went wherever 
bad dogs go. 

Then there was consternation. Indeed, one of the 
priests fell down with fear and the others turned tail, 
all of them except Dacha, who stood his ground. 

“A little of the magic fire!” I remarked airily, 


THE FEAST 


i39 

“and there is plenty more where that came from,” 
at the same time, as though by accident, slapping 
Hans’s pocket, which I saw was smouldering. “And 
now, noble Dacha, it is setting in wet and we are hun¬ 
gry. Be pleased to give us shelter and food.” 

“Certainly, Lord, certainly!” he exclaimed, and 
started off with us, keeping me well between himself 
and Hans, while the others, who had returned, fol¬ 
lowed with the dead dog. 

Presently, recovering from his fear, he asked me 
whether the Lady Sabeela had said anything more 
about him. 

“Only one thing,” I answered: “that it was a pity 
that a maiden should be obliged to marry a god 
when there were such men as you in the world.” 

Here I stopped and watched the effect of my shot 
out of the corner of my eye. 

His coarse but handsome face grew cunning, and he 
smacked his lips. 

“Yes, Lord, yes,” he said hurriedly. “But who 
knows? Things are not always what they seem, 
Lord, and I have noted that sometimes the faithful 
servant tithes the master’s offering.” 

“By Jingo! I’ve got it!” thought I to myself. 
“You, my friend, are Heu-Heu, or at any rate his 
business part.” But aloud, glancing at the redoubt¬ 
able Hans, I only remarked something to the effect 
that Dacha’s powers of observation were keen and 
that, like the Lord-of-the-Fire himself, as he said 
truly, things were not always what they seemed. 

We crossed a bare platform of rock, to the right of 
which, beyond a space of garden, I observed the 
mouth of a large cave. At the edge of this platform 
a strange sight was to be seen, for here, just on the 
borders of the lake, at a distance of about twenty 
paces from each other, burned two columns of flame 


I 4 0 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

which hitherto had been hidden from us by the lie of 
the ground and trees, between which columns was a 
pillar or post of stone. 

“The ‘eternal fires/” thought I to myself, and 
then inquired casually what they were. . 

“They are flames which have always burned in 
that place from the beginning; we do not know why,” 
Dacha replied indifferently. “No rain puts them 
out.” 

“Ah!” I reflected, “natural gas coming from the 
volcano, such as I have heard of in Canada. 

Then we turned to the right along the outer wall of 
the garden I have mentioned, and came to some fine 
houses, that, to my fancy, had a kind of collegiate 
appearance, all one-storied and built against the rock 
of the mountain. As a matter of fact, I was right, 
for these were the dwellings of the priests of Heu- 
Heu and their numerous female belongings. These 
priests, I should say, had their privileges, for whereas 
the people on the mainland for the most part mar¬ 
ried only one wife, they were polygamous, the ladies 
being supplied to them through spiritual pressure 
put upon the unfortunate Walloos, or, if that failed, 
by the simple and ancient expedient of kidnapping. 
Once, however, they had arrived upon the island and 
thus became dedicated to the god, they vanished 
so far as their kinsfolk were concerned, and never 
afterwards were they allowed to cross the water or 
even to attempt any communication with them. In 
short, those who became alive in Heu-Heu, became 
also dead to the world. 

Hans and I were led to the largest of this group of 
houses, that abutting immediately on to the garden 
wall, the inhabitants of which apparently had al¬ 
ready been advised of our coming by messenger, since 
we found them in a bustle of preparation. Thus I 


THE FEAST 


141 

saw handsome, white-robed women flitting about 
and heard hurried orders being given. We were 
taken to a room where a driftwood fire had been 
lighted on the hearth because the night was damp 
and chill, at which we warmed and dried ourselves 
after we had washed. A while later a priest sum¬ 
moned us to eat and then retired outside the door 
awaiting our convenience. 

“Hans,” I said, “all has gone well so far; we are 
accepted as the friends of Heu-Heu, not as his 
enemies.” 

“Yes, Baas, thanks to the cleverness of the Baas 
about the matches and the rest. But what has the 
Baas in his mind?” 

“This, Hans; that all must continue to go well, for 
remember what is our duty, namely, to save the lady 
Sabeela, if we can, as we have sworn to do. Now if 
we are to bring this about we must keep our eyes 
open and our wits sharp. Hans, I daresay that they 
have strange liquors in this place which will be 
offered to us to make us talk. But while we are here 
we must drink nothing but water. Do you under¬ 
stand, Hans?” 

“Yes, Baas, I understand.” 

“And do you swear, Hans?” 

Hans rubbed his middle reflectively, and replied: 

“My stomach is cold, Baas, and I should like a 
glass of something more warming than water after 
all this damp and the sight of those stone men. Yet, 
Baas, I swear. Yes, I swear by your Reverend 
Father that I will only drink water, or coffee if they 
make it, which, of course, they don’t.” 

“That is all right, Hans. You know that if you 
break your oath my Reverend Father will certainly 
come even with you, and so shall I in this world or the 


I 


142 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“Yes, Baas. But will the Baas please remember 
that a gin bottle is not the only bait that the devil 
sets upon his hook. Different men have different 
tastes, Baas. Now if some pretty lady were to come 
and tell the Baas that he was oh! so beautiful and 
that she loved him, oh! ever so much, someone like 
that Mameena, for instance, of whom old Zikali is 
always talking as having been a friend of yours, will 
the Baas swear by his Reverend Father—-—'' 

“Cease from folly and be silent/' I said majesti¬ 
cally. “Is this the time and place to chatter of pretty 
women?” 

Nevertheless, in myself I appreciated the shrewd¬ 
ness of Han's repartee, and as a matter of fact an 
attempt was made to play off that trick on me, 
though if I am to get to the end of this story, I shall 
have no time to tell you about it. 

Our compact sealed, we went through the door and 
found the priest waiting outside. He led us down a 
passage into a fine hall plentifully lit with lamps for 
now the night had fallen. Here several tables were 
spread, but we were taken to one at the head of the 
hall where we were welcomed by Dacha dressed in 
grand robes, and some other priests; also by women, 
all of them handsome and beautifully arrayed in their 
wild fashion, whom I took to be the wives of these 
worthies. One of them, I noticed, had a singular 
resemblance to the Lady Sabeela, although she ap¬ 
peared to be her elder by some years. 

We sat down at the table in curious, carved chairs, 
and I found myself between Dacha and this lady, 
whose name, I discovered, was Dramana. The feast 
began, and I may say at once that it was a very fine 
feast, for it appeared that we had arrived upon a day 
of festival. Indeed, I had not eaten such a meal for 
years. 


THE FEAST 


143 


Of course, it was barbaric in its way. Thus the 
food was served in great earthenware dishes, all 
ready cut up; there were no knives or forks, the 
fingers of the eaters taking their place, and the plates 
consisted of the tough green leaves of some kind of 
waterlily that grew in the lake, which were removed 
after each course and replaced by fresh ones. 

Of its sort, however, it was excellent and included 
fish of a good flavour, kid cooked with spices, wild 
fowl, and a kind of pudding made of ground corn and 
sweetened with honey. Also, there was plenty of 
the strong native beer, which was handed round in 
ornamented earthenware cups that were, however, 
inlaid not with small diamonds and rubies, but with 
pearls found, I was informed, in the shells of fresh¬ 
water mussels, and set in the clay when damp. 

These pearls were irregular in shape and for the 
most part not large, but the effect of them thus em¬ 
ployed, was very pretty. Still, some attained to a 
considerable size, since Dramana and other women 
wore necklaces of them bored and strung upon fibres. 
Without going into further details, I may say that 
this feast and its equipment convinced me more than 
ever that these people had once belonged to some 
unknown but highly civilized race which was now 
dying out in this its last home and sinking into bar¬ 
barism before it died. 

In pursuance of our agreement Hans, who squatted 
on a stool behind me, for he would not sit at the table, 
and I, saying that we were bound by a vow to touch 
nothing else, drank water only, although I heard him 
groan each time the beer cups went round. I may 
add that this happened frequently, and the amount of 
liquor consumed was considerable, as became evident 
by the behaviour of the drinkers, many of whom grew 
more or less intoxicated, with the usual unpleasant 


i 4 4 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

results that I need not describe. Also they grew affec¬ 
tionate, for they threw their arms about the women 
and began to kiss them in a way which I considered 
improper. I observed, however, that the lady called 
Dramana drank but little. Also, as she sat between 
me and an extremely deaf priest who became sleepy 
in his cups, she was, of course, freed from any such 
unwelcome attentions. 

All these circumstances, and especially the fact 
that Dacha was much occupied with a handsome fe¬ 
male on his left, gave Dramana and myself opportun¬ 
ities of conversation which I think were welcome to 
her. After a few general remarks, presently she said 
in a low voice: 

“I hear, Lord, that you have seen Sabeela, the 
daughter of the Walloo, chief of the mainland. Tell 
me of her, for she is my sister on whom I have not 
looked for a long while, for we never visit the main¬ 
land, and those who dwell there never visit us—un¬ 
less they are obliged,” she added significantly. 

“She is beautiful but lives in great terror because 
she, who desires to be married to a man, must be 
married to a god,” I answered. 

“She does well to be afraid, Lord, for by you sits 
that god,” and with a shiver of disgust and the slight¬ 
est possible motion of her head, she indicated Dacha, 
who had become quite drunken and at the moment 
was engaged in embracing the lady on his left, who 
also seemed to be somewhat the worse for alcoholic 
wear, or to put it plainly, “half seas over.” 

“Nay,” I answered, “the god I mean is called 
Heu-Heu, not Dacha.” 

“Heu-Heu, Lord! You will learn all about Heu- 
Heu before the night is over. It is Dacha whom she 
must marry.” 

“ But Dacha is your husband, lady.” 


THE FEAST 


145 

“Dacha is the husband of many, Lord,” and she 
glanced at several of the most handsome women 
present, “for the god is liberal to his high priest. 
Since I was bound between the eternal fires there 
have been eight such marriages, though some of the 
brides have been handed on to others or sacrificed 
for crimes against the god, or attempting to escape, 
or for other reasons. 

“Lord,” she went on, dropping her voice till I 
could scarcely catch what she said, although my 
hearing is so keen, “be warned by me. Unless 
you are indeed a god greater than Heu-Heu, and your 
companion also, whateve-r you may see or hear, lift 
neither voice nor hand. If you do, you will be 
rent to pieces without helping any one and perhaps 
bring about the death of many, my own among them. 
Hush! Speak of something else. He is beginning 
to watch us. Yet, O Lord, help me if you can. Yes, 
save me and my sister if you can.” 

I glanced round. Dacha, who had ceased em¬ 
bracing the lady, was looking at us suspiciously, as 
though he had caught some word. Perhaps Hans 
thought so as well, for he managed to make a great 
clatter, either by tumbling off his stool or dropping 
his drinking cup, I know not which, that drew away 
Dacha’s half-drunken attention from us and pre¬ 
vented him from hearing anything. 

“You seem to find the Lady Dramana pleasant, O 
Lord Blowing-Wind,” sneered Dacha. “Well, I am 
not jealous and I would give such guests of the best I 
have, especially when the god is going to be so good 
to me. Also the Lady Dramana knows better than to 
tell secrets and what happens here to those who do. So 
talk to her as much as you like, little Blowing-Wind, 
before you blow yourself away,” and he leered at'me 
in a manner that made me feel very uncomfortable. 


146 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“I was asking the Lady Dramana about the sacred 
tree of which the great wizard, Zikali, desires some 
of the leaves for his medicine,” I said, pretending not 
to understand. 

“Oh!” he answered, with a change of manner 
which suggested that his suspicions were in course of 
being dissipated, “oh, were you? I thought you 
were asking of other things. Well, there is no secret 
about that, and she shall show it to you to-morrow, 
if you like; also anything else you wish, for I and 
my brethren will be otherwise engaged. Meanwhile, 
here comes the Cup of Illusions that is brewed from 
the fruit of the tree of which you must taste though 
you be a water-drinker, yes, and the yellow dwarf, 
Lord-of-the-Fire, also, for in it we pledge the god 
into whose presence we must enter very soon.” 

I answered hurriedly that I was weary and would 
not trouble the god by paying my respects to him at 
present. 

“All who come here must pass the god, Lord Blow¬ 
ing-Wind,” he answered, glaring at me, and adding: 
“Either they must pass the god living, or, if they 
prefer it, they may pass him dead. Did not Zikali 
tell you that, O Blowing-Wind? Choose, then. Will 
you wait upon the god living, or will you wait upon 
him dead?” 

Now I thought it was time to assert myself, and 
looking this ill-conditioned brute in the eyes, I said 
slowly: 

Who is this that talks to me of death, not knowing 
perchance that I am a lord of death? Does he seek 
such a fate as that which befell the hound without 
your doors? Learn, O Priest of Heu-Heu, that it is 
dangerous to use ill-omened words to me or to the 
Lord-of-the-Fire, lest we should answer them with 
lightnings.” 


THE FEAST 


147 


I suppose that these remarks, or something in my 
eye, impressed him. At any rate, his manner became 
humble, almost servile indeed, especially as Hans had 
risen and stood at my side, holding in his extended 
hand the box of matches, at which all stared 
suspiciously. Well they might have stared, had they 
known that his other hand, innocently buried in his 
pocket, grasped the butt of an excellent Colt revol¬ 
ver. I should have told you, by the way, that as we 
could not bring them with us to the feast we had left 
our rifles hidden in our beds, loaded and full cocked, 
so that they would be sure to go off if any thief began 
to finger them. 

“Pardon, Lord, pardon,” said Dacha. “Could I 
wish to insult one so powerful? If I said aught to 
offend, why, this beer is strong.” 

I bowed benignantly, but remembered the old Latin 
saying to the effect that drink digs out the truth. 
Then, by way of changing the subject, he pointed 
to the end of the room. Here appeared two pretty 
women dressed in exceedingly light attire and with 
wreaths upon their heads, who bore between them 
a large bowl of liquor in which floated red flowers. 
(The whole scene, I should say, much resembled some 
picture I had seen of an ancient Roman—or perhaps 
it was Egyptian feast taken from a fresco.) They 
brought the bowl to Dacha, and with a simultaneous 
movement of their graceful forms lifted it up, whereon 
all of the company who were not too drunk rose, 
bowed towards the bowl and twice cried out to¬ 
gether: 

“The Cup of Illusions! The Cup of Illusions! 

“Drink,” said Dacha to me. “Drink to the glory 
of Heu-Heu.” Then observing that I hesitated, he 
added: “Nay, I will drink first to show that it is not 
poisoned,” and muttering, “O Spirit of Heu-Heu, 


I 4 B heu-heu, or the monster 

descend upon thy priest!” drink he did, a consider¬ 
able quantity. 

Then the women brought the bowl, which reminded 
me of the loving-cup at a Lord Mayor's feast, and 
held it to my lips. I took a pull at it, making mo¬ 
tions of my throat as though it were a long one, 
though in reality I only swallowed a sip. Next it 
was handed to Hans to whom I murmured one Boer 
Dutch word over my shoulder. It was “ Beetje” 
which means ‘Tittle," and as I turned my head to 
watch him, I think he took the advice. 

After this the bowl, in which, I should add, the 
liquor was of a greenish colour and tasted something 
like Chartreuse, was taken from one to another till 
all present had drunk of it, the girls who bore it 
finishing up the little that was left. 

This I saw, but after it I did not see much else for 
a while, for, small as had been my draught, the stuff 
went to my head and seemed to cloud my brain. 
Moreover, all kinds of queer visions, some of them not 
too desirable, sprang up in my mind, and with them a 
sense of vastness that was peopled by innumerable 
forms; beautiful forms, grotesque forms, forms of 
folk that I had known, now long dead, forms of others 
whom I had never seen, all of whom had this peculi¬ 
arity, that they seemed to be staring at me with a 
strange intentness. Also these forms grouped them¬ 
selves together and began to enact dramas of one 
kind or another, dramas of war and love and death 
that had all the vividness of a nightmare. 

Presently, however, these illusions passed away 
and I remained filled with a great calm and a won¬ 
derful sense of well-being, also with my powers of 
observation rendered most acute. 

Looking about me, I noted that all who had drunk 
seemed to be undergoing similar experiences. At 


149 


THE FEAST 

first they showed signs of excitement; then they 
grew very still and sat like statues with their eyes 
fixed on vacancy, speaking not a word, moving not a 
muscle. 

This state lasted quite a long time, till at length 
those who had drunk first appeared to awake, for they 
began to talk to each other in low tones. I noted 
that every sign of drunkenness had vanished; one 
and all they looked as sober as a whole Bench of 
Judges; moreover, their faces had grown solemn and 
their eyes seemed to be filled with some cold and 
fateful purpose. 


CHAPTER X 
The Sacrifice 

After a solemn pause, Dacha rose and said in an icy 
voice: 

“I hear the god calling us. Let us pass into the 
presence of the god and make offering of the yearly 
sacrifice. ,, 

Then a procession was formed. Dacha and Dramana 
went first, Hans and I followed next, and after us 
came all who had been at the feast, to a total of about 
fifty people. 

“Baas,” whispered Hans, “after I had drunk that 
stuff, which was so nice and warming that I wished 
you had let me have more of it, your Reverend Father 
came and talked to me.” 

“And what did he say to you, Hans?” 

“He said, Baas, that we were going into very queer 
company and had better keep our eyes skinned. 
Also that it would be wise not to interfere in matters 
that did not concern us.” 

I reflected to myself that within an hour I had re¬ 
ceived advice of the same sort from a purely terres¬ 
trial source, which was an odd coincidence, unless 
indeed Hans had overheard or absorbed it sub¬ 
consciously. To him I only observed, however, that 
such mandates must be obeyed, and that whatever 
chanced, he would do well to sit quite still, keeping his 
pistol ready, but only use it in case of absolute 
necessity to save ourselves from death. 


THE SACRIFICE 


i Si 

The procession left the hall by a back entrance be¬ 
hind the table at which we had sat, and entered a 
kind of tunnel that was lit with lamps, though 
whether this was hollowed in the rock or built of 
blocks of stone I am not sure. After walking for 
about fifty paces down this tunnel, suddenly we 
found ourselves in a great cavern, also dimly lit with 
lamps, mere spots of light in the surrounding black¬ 
ness. 

Here all the priests, including Dacha, left us; at 
least, peering about, I could not see any of them. The 
women alone remained in the cave, where they knelt 
down singly and at a distance from each other 
like scattered worshippers in a dimly lit cathedral 
when no service is in progress. 

Dramana, to whose charge we seemed to have 
been consigned, led us to a stone bench upon which 
she took her seat with us. I noted that she did not 
kneel and worship like the others. For a while we 
remained thus in silence, staring at the blackness in 
front where no lamps burned. It was an eerie busi¬ 
ness in such surroundings that I confess began to get 
upon my nerves. At length I could bear it no 
longer, and in a whisper asked Dramana whether any¬ 
thing was about to happen, and if so, what. 

“The sacrifice is about to happen,” she whispered 
back. “Be silent, for here the ears of the god are 
everywhere.” 

I obeyed, thinking it safer, and another ten minutes 
or so went by in an intolerable stillness. 

“When does the play begin, Baas?” muttered Hans 
in my ear. (Once I had taken him to a theatre in 
Durban to improve his mind, and he thought that 
this was another, as indeed it was, if of an unusual 
sort.) 

I kicked him on the shins to keep him quiet, and 


152 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

just then at a distance I heard the sound of chanting. 
It was a weird and melancholy music that seemed to 
swing backwards and forwards between two bands 
of singers, each strophe and antistrophe, if those are 
the right words, ending in a kind of wail or cry of 
despair which turned my blood cold. When this had 
gone on for a little while, I thought that I saw figures 
moving through the gloom in front of us. So did 
Hans, for he whispered: 

“The Hairy People are here, Baas.” 

“Can you see them ?” I asked in the same low voice. 

“I think so, Baas. At any rate, I can smell them.” 

“Then keep your pistol ready,” I answered. 

A moment later I saw a lighted torch floating in 
the air in front of us, though the bearer of it I could 
not see. The torch was bent downwards, and I 
heard the sound of kindling taking fire. A little 
flame sprang up revealing a pile of logs arranged for 
burning, and beyond it the tall form of Dacha wearing 
a strange headdress and white, priestlike robes, dif¬ 
ferent from those in which he had been clad at the 
feast. Between his hands, which he held in front of 
him, was a white human skull reversed, I mean that 
its upper part was towards the floor. 

“Burn, Dust of Illusion, burn,” he cried, “and 
show us our desires,” and out of the skull he emptied 
a quantity of powder on to the pile of wood. 

A dense, penetrating smoke arose which seemed to 
fill the cave, vast though it was, and blot out every¬ 
thing. It passed away and was followed by a blaze 
of brilliant flame that lit up all the place and revealed 
a terrific spectacle. 

Behind the fire, at a distance of ten paces or so, 
was an awful object, an appalling black figure at 
least twelve feet in height, a figure of Heu-Heu as we 
had seen him depicted in the Cave of the Berg, only 


THE SACRIFICE 153 

there his likeness was far too flattering. For this was 
the very image of the devil as he might have been 
imagined by a mad monk, and from his eyes shot a 
red light. 

As I have said before, the figure was like to that of 
a huge gorilla and yet no ape but a man, and yet no 
man but a fiend. There was the long gray hair grow¬ 
ing in tufts about the body. There was the great, 
red, bushy beard. There were the enormous limbs 
and the long arms and the hands with claws on them 
where the thumbs should be, and the webbed fingers. 
The bull neck on the top of which sat the small head 
that somehow resembled an old woman’s with a 
hooked nose; the huge mouth from which the baboon¬ 
like tushes protruded, the round, massive, able-looking 
brow, the deepset glaring eyes, now alight with red 
fire, the cruel smile—all were there intensified. 
There, too, was the shape of a dead man into the 
breast of which the clawed foot was driven, and in 
the left hand the head that had been twisted from 
the man’s body. 

Oh! evidently the painter of the picture in the Berg 
can have been no Bushman as once I had supposed, 
but some priest of Heu-Heu whom fate or chance had 
brought thither in past ages, and who had depicted it 
to be the object of his private worship. When I saw 
the thing I gasped aloud and felt as though I should 
fall to the ground through fear, so hellish was it. 
But Hans gripped my arm and said: 

“Baas, be not afraid. It is not alive; it is but a 
thing of stone and paint with fire set within.” 

I stared again; he was right. 

Heu-Heu was but an idol! Heu-Heu did not live 
except in the hearts of his worshippers! 

Only out of what Satanic mind had this image 
sprung? 


154 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

I sighed with relief as this knowledge came home to 
me, and began to observe details. There were plenty 
to be seen. For instance, on either side of the statue 
stood a line of the hideous Hairy Folk, men to the 
right and women to the left, with white cloths tied 
about their middles. In front of this line behind 
their high priest, Dacha, were the other priests, Heu- 
Heu’s clergy, and on a raised table behind them just 
at the foot of the base of the statue, which I now saw 
stood upon a kind of pedestal so as to make it more 
dominant, lay a dead body, that of one of the Hairy 
women, as the clear light of the flame revealed. 

“Baas,” said Hans again, “I believe that is the 
gorilla-woman I shot in the river. I seem to know 
her pretty face.” 

“If so, I hope we shall not join her on that table 
presently,” I answered. 

After this suddenly I went mad; everybody went 
mad. I suppose that the vapour from that accursed 
powder had got into our brains. Had not Dacha 
called it the “Dust of Illusion”? Certainly of 
illusions there were plenty, most of them bad, like 
those of a nightmare. 

Still, before they possessed me completely, I had the 
sense to understand what was happening to me and 
to grip hold of Hans, who I saw was going mad also, 
and command him to sit quiet. Then came the illu¬ 
sions which really I can’t describe to you. You 
fellows have read of the effects of opium smoking; 
well, it was that kind of thing, only worse. 

I dreamed that Heu-Heu got off his pedestal and 
came dancing down the hall, also that he bent over 
me and kissed me on the forehead. In fact, I think it 
Was Dramana who kissed me, for she, too, had gone 
mad. Everything that I had done bad in my life 
reenacted itself in my mind and, all put together. 


THE SACRIFICE 


i5S 

seemed to make me a sinner indeed, because you see 
the good was entirely omitted. The Hairy Folk 
began an infernal dance before the statue; the women 
around us raved and shouted with extraordinary ex¬ 
pressions upon their faces; the priests waved their 
arms and set up yells of adoration as did those of 
Baal in the Old Testament. In short, literally there 
was the devil to pay. 

Yet strangely enough it was all wildly, deliriously 
exciting and really I seemed to enjoy it. It shows 
how wicked we must be at bottom. A sight of hell 
while you remain on the terra firma of our earth is 
not uninteresting, even though you be temporarily 
affected by its atmosphere. 

Presently the nightmare came to an end, suddenly 
as it had commenced, and I woke up to find my head 
on Dramana’s shoulder, or hers on mine, I forget 
which, with Hans engaged in kissing my boot under 
the impression that it was the chaste brow of some 
black maiden whom he had known about thirty years 
before. I kicked him on his snub nose, whereon he 
rose and apologized, remarking that this was the 
strongest dacca —the hemp which the natives smoke 
with intoxicating effects—that he had ever tasted. 

“Yes,” I answered, “and now I understand where 
Zikali’s magic comes from. No wonder he wants 
more of the leaves of that tree and thought it worth 
while to send us so far to get them.” 

Then I ceased talking, for something in the atmos¬ 
phere of the place absorbed my attention. A sudden 
chill seemed to have fallen upon it and its occu¬ 
pants who, in strange contrast to their recent ex¬ 
cesses, now appeared to be possessed by the very spirit 
of Mrs. Grundy. There they stood, exuding piety, 
at every pore and gazing with rapt countenances at 
the hideous image of their god. Only to me those 


i 5 6 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

countenances had grown very cruel. It was as 
though they awaited the consummation of some 
dreadful drama with a kind of cold joy, which, of 
course, may have been an aftermath of their unholy 
intoxication. It was the scene at the feast repeated 
but with a difference. There they had been drunken 
with liquor and sobered by the potent stuff they had 
swallowed after it; now they had been made drunken 
with fumes and were sobered by I knew not what. 
Their master Satan, perhaps! 

The fire still burnt brightly though it gave off 
no more of these fumes, being fed I suppose with 
natural fuel, and by the light of it I saw that Dacha 
was addressing the image with impassioned gestures. 
What he said I do not know, for my ears were still 
buzzing and of it I could hear nothing. But pres¬ 
ently he turned and pointed to us and then began to 
beckon. 

“What is it he wants us to do?” I asked of 
Dramana who now was seated at my side, a perfect 
model of propriety. 

“He says that you must come up and make your 
offering to the god.” 

“What offering?” I asked, thinking that perhaps 
it would be of a painful nature. 

“The offering of the sacred fire that the Lord of 
Fire,” and she pointed to Hans, “bears about with 
him.” 

I was puzzled for a moment till Hans remarked: 

“I think she means the matches. Baas.” 

Then I understood, and bade him produce a new 
box of Best Wax Vestas and hold it out in his hand. 
Thus armed we advanced and, passing round the 
fire, bowed, as the Bible potentate whom the Prophet 
cured bargained he should be allowed to do in the 
House of Rimmon, to the beastly effigy of Heu-Heu^ 


THE SACRIFICE 


157 

Then in obedience to the muttered directions of 
Dacha, Hans solemnly deposited the box of matches 
upon the stone table, after which we were allowed to 
retreat. 

Anything more ridiculous than this scene it is im¬ 
possible to imagine. I suppose that its intense ab¬ 
surdity was caused, or at any rate accentuated by 
its startling and indeed horrible contrasts. There 
was the towering and demoniacal idol; there were the 
rogue priests, their faces alight with a fierce fanati¬ 
cism; there, looking only half human, were the long 
lines of savage Hairy Folk; there was the burning 
fire reflecting itself to the farthest recesses of the 
cavern and showing the forms of the scattered wor¬ 
shippers. 

Finally there was myself, a bronzed and tattered 
individual, and the dirty, abject-looking Hans hold¬ 
ing in his hand that absurd box of matches which 
finally he deposited in the exact middle of the stone 
table about six inches from the swollen body of the 
aboriginal whom he had shot in the river. In those 
vast surroundings this box looked so lonely and so 
small that the sight of it moved me to internal con¬ 
vulsions. Shaking with hysterical laughter I returned 
to my seat as quickly as I could, dragging Hans after 
me, for I saw that his case was the same, although 
fortunately it is not the custom of Hottentots to burst 
into open merriment. 

“What will Heu-Heu do with the matches, Baas?” 
asked Hans. “Surely there must be plenty of fire 
where he is, Baas.” 

“Yes, lots,” I replied with energy, “but perhaps of 
another sort.” 

Then I observed that Dacha was pointing to the 
right and that the eyes of all present were fixed in 
that direction. 


i 5 8 IHEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“The sacrifice comes,” murmured Dramana, and 
as she spoke a woman appeared, a tall woman covered 
with a white robe or veil, who was led forward by 
two of the Hairy People. She was brought to the 
front of the table on which lay the body and the 
matches, and there stood quite still. 

“Who is this?” I asked. 

“Last year’s bride, with whom the priest has done 
and passes on into the keeping of the god,” answered 
Dramana with a stony smile. 

“Do you mean that they are going to kill the poor 
thing?” I said, horrified. 

“The god is about to take her into his keeping,” 
she replied enigmatically. 

At this moment one of the savage attendants 
snatched away the veil which draped the victim, 
revealing a very beautiful woman clad in a white 
kirtle which was cut low upon her breast and reached 
to her knees. Tall and stately, she stood quite still 
before us, her black hair streaming down upon her 
shoulders. Then, as though at some signal, all the 
women in the audience stood up and screamed: 

“Wed her to the god! Wed her to the god and 
let us drink of the cup that through her unites us to 
the god!” 

Two of the Hairy Folk drew near to the girl, each of 
whom had something in his hand, though what it was 
at the moment I could not see, and stood still, as 
though waiting for a sign. Then followed a pause 
during which I glanced about me at the faces of the 
women, made hideous by the unholy passions that 
raged within them, who stood with outstretched 
arms pointing at the victim. They looked horrible, 
and I hated them, all except Dramana, who, I noted 
with relief, had not cried aloud and did not stretch 
out her hands like the rest. 


THE SACRIFICE 159 

What was I about to see? Some dreadful act of 
voodooism such as negroes practise in Hayti and on 
the West Coast? Perhaps. If so I could not bear 
it. Whatever the risk might be I could not bear it; 
almost automatically my hand grasped the stock of 
my revolver. 

Dacha seemed as though he were about to say 
something, a word of doom mayhap. I measured 
the distance between me and himself with my eyes, 
calculating where I should aim to put a bullet through 
his large head and give the god a sacrifice which it did 
not expect. Indeed, had he spoken such a word, 
without doubt I should have done it, for as you 
fellows know I am handy with a pistol, and probably, 
as a result, never have lived to tell you this story. 

At this juncture, however, the victim waved her 
arms and said in a loud, clear voice: 

“I claim the ancient right to make my prayer to 
the god before I am given to the god.” 

“Speak on,” said Dacha, “and be swift.” 

She turned and curtseyed to the hideous idol, then 
wheeled about again and addressed it in form al¬ 
though really she was speaking to the audience. 

“O Fiend Heu-Heu,” she said in a voice filled with 
awful scorn and bitterness, “whom my people wor¬ 
ship to their ruin, I who was stolen from my people 
come to thee because I would have none of yonder 
high-priest and therefore must pay the price in blood. 
So be it, but ere I come I have something to tell thee, 
O Heu-Heu, and something to tell these priests who 
grow fat in wickedness. Hearken! A spirit is in 
me, giving me sight. I see this place a sea of water, 
I see flames bursting through the water, turning 
thy hideous effigy to dust and burning up thy evil 
servants, so that not one of them remains. The 
Prophecy! The Prophecy! Let all who hear me 


*i6o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

bethink them of the ancient prophecy, for at length 
its hour is fulfilled.” 

Then she stared towards Hans and myself, waving 
her arms, and I thought was about to address us. If 
so, she changed her mind and did not. 

So far the priests and the congregation had listened 
in the silence of amazement, or perhaps of fear. Now, 
however, a howl of furious execration broke from 
them, and when it died down I heard Dacha shout¬ 
ing: . . 

“Let this blaspheming witch be slam. Let the 
sacrifice be accomplished!” 

The two savages stepped towards her, and now I 
saw that what they held in their hands were coils of 
rope with which doubtless she was to be bound. If 
so, she was too swift for them, for with a great bound 
she sprang upon the table where lay the body of the 
Hairy woman and the box of matches. Next instant 
I saw a knife flashing in her hand; I suppose it had 
been concealed somewhere in her dress. She lifted 
it and plunged it to her heart, crying as she did so: 

“My blood be on you, Priests of Heu-Heu!” 

Then she fell down there upon the table and was 
still. 

In the hush that followed I heard Hans say: 

“That was a brave lady, Baas, and doubtless all 
she said will come true. May I shoot that priest. 
Baas, or will you?” 

“No,” I began, but before I could get out another 
word my voice was overwhelmed by a tumult of 
shouts, 

“The god has been robbed of his sacrifice and is 
hungry. Let the strangers be offered to the god.” 

These and other like things said the shouts. 

Dacha looked towards us, hesitating, and I saw 
that it was time to act. Rising, I called out: 


THE SACRIFICE 


161 


“ Know, O Dacha, that before one hand is laid upon 
us I will make you as my companion, Lord-of-the- 
Fire, made the dog without your doors.” 

Evidently Dacha believed me, for he grew quite 
humble. “Have no fear, Lords,” he said. “Are 
you not our honoured guests and the messengers of 
a Great One? Go in peace and safety.” 

Then at his command or sign the brightly burning 
fire was scattered, so that the cave grew almost dark, 
especially as some of the lights had gone out. 

“Follow me swiftly—swiftly,” said Dramana, and 
taking my hand she led me away through the gloom. 

Presently we found ourselves in the passage, 
though for aught I know it was another passage; at 
any rate, it led to the hall where we had feasted. 
This was now empty, although in it lights still 
burned. Crossing it, Dramana conducted us back 
to the house, where a hasty examination shewed us 
that our rifles were just as we had left them; nothing 
had been touched. Here, seeing that we were quite 
alone, for all had gone to the sacrifice, I spoke to her. 

“Lady Dramana,” I said, “does my heart tell me 
truly or do I only dream that you desire to depart 
from out of the shadow of Heu-Heu?” 

She glanced about her cautiously, then answered in 
a low voice: “Lord, there is nothing that I desire so 
much—unless perchance it be death,” she added with 
a sigh. “Hearken! Seven years ago I was bound 
upon the Rock of Offering, where my sister will stand 
to-morrow, having been chosen by the god and dedi¬ 
cated to him by the mad terror of my people, which 
means, Lord, that I had been chosen by Dacha and 
dedicated to Dacha.” 

“Why, then, do you still live?” I asked, “seeing 
that she who was chosen last year must be sacrificed 
this year.” 


162 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“Lord, am I not the daughter of the Walloo, the 
ruler of the people of the Mainland, and might not 
the title to that rule be acquired through me while I 
breathe? It is not the best of titles, it is true, be¬ 
cause I was born of a lesser wife of my father, the 
Walloo, whereas my sister Sabeela is born of the 
great wife. Still, at a pinch, it might serve. That is 
why I still live.” > 

“What then is Dacha’s plan, Lady Dramana? ,, 

“It stands thus, Lord. Hitherto for many 
generations, it is said since the great fire burned upon 
the island and destroyed the city, there have been 
two governments in this land: that of the priests of 
Heu-Heu, who govern the minds of its people, also 
the wild Wood Folk, and that of the Walloos, who 
govern their bodies and are kings by ancient right. 
Now Dacha, who, when he is not lost in drink or other 
follies, is farseeing and ambitious, purposes to rule 
both minds and bodies and it may be to bring in new 
blood from outside our country and once more to 
build up a great people, such as tradition tells we 
were in the beginning, when we came here from the 
north or from the west. He does but wait until he 
has married my sister, the lawful heiress to the 
Walloo, my father, who by now must be an old and 
feeble man, to strike his blow, and in her name to 
seize the government and power. 

“The priests, as you have seen, are but few and 
cannot do this of their own strength, but they com¬ 
mand all the savage folk who are called the Children 
of Heu-Heu. Now these people are very angry be¬ 
cause the other day one of their women was killed 
upon the river, she who lay on the altar before the 
god, and this they think was done by the Walloo, not 
understanding that it was your servant, the yellow 
man there, who slew Jfier. Or if they understand, 


THE SACRIFICE 


163 


they believe that he did so by the order of Issicore 
who, we hear, is betrothed to my sister Sabeela. 

“Therefore they wish to make a great war upon the 
Walloo under the guidance of the priests of Heu- 
Heu, whom they call their Father, because his image 
is like to them. Already their mankind are gather¬ 
ing on the island, rowing themselves hither upon logs 
or bundles of reeds, and by to-morrow night all will 
be collected. Then, after what is called the Holy 
Marriage, when my sister Sabeela has been brought 
as an offering by the Walloo and bound to the pillar 
between the Everlasting Fires, led by Dacha they 
will attack the city on the mainland, which they dare 
not do alone. It will surrender to them, and Dacha 
will kill my old father and the lord Issicore who 
stands next to him, and any of the ancient Wood who 
cling to him, and cause himself to be declared Walloo. 
After this his purpose is to poison the Forest folk 
as he well knows how to do and as I have told you, 
perhaps to bring new blood into the land which is 

rich and wide, and found a kingdom. . 

“A big scheme,” I said, not without admiration, 
for on hearing it, to tell the truth, I began to con¬ 
ceive a certain respect for that villain Dacha, who, 
at any rate, had ideas and presented a striking 
contrast to the helpless and superstition-ridden in¬ 
habitants of the mainland. . 

“But, Lady,” I went on, what is to happen to 
me and to my companion who is named Lord-ot-the- 
Fire ^ ** 

'“I do not know, Lord, who have had little talk 
with Dacha since you came, or with any to whom he 
reveals his secrets. I think, however, that he is 
afraid of you, believing you to be magicians, or in 
league with the greatest of magicians, the prophet 
Zikali, who dwells in the south, with whom the priests 


164 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

of Heu-Heu communicate from time to time. Also 
it is probable that he holds that you may be able to 
help him to build up a nation and that therefore he 
would wish to keep you in his service in this country, 
only killing you if you try to escape. On the other 
hand, when the Wood Folk come to understand that 
it was really you, or one of you, who killed the woman, 
they may clamour for your lives. Then, if he thinks 
it wisest to please them, at the great feast which is 
called the Finishing of the Holy Marriage, you may 
be tied upon the altar as a Sacrifice while the blood 
is drained from you, to be drunk by the priests with 
the lips of Heu-Heu. Perhaps that matter will be 
settled at the Council of the Priests to-morrow, 
Lord.” 

“Thank you,” I said, “never mind the details.” 

“Meanwhile,” she went on, “for the present you 
are safe. Indeed I, who by my rank am the Mistress 
of Households, have been commanded to honour you 
in every way, and to-morrow, when the priests are 
engaged in preparations for the Holy Marriage, to 
show you all that you would see, also to provide you 
with boughs from the Tree of Illusions which Zikali 
the prophet desires.” 

“Thank you,” I said again, “we shall be most 
happy to take a walk with you, even if it rains, as I 
think from the sounds upon the roof it is doing at 
present. Meanwhile, I understand that you wish 
to get out of this place and to save your sister. Well, 
I may as well tell you at once, Lady Dramana, that 
my companion, who chooses to assume the shape of a 
yellow dwarf, and I, who choose to be as I am, are 
in fact great magicians with much more power than 
we seem to possess. Therefore, it is quite possible 
that we may be able to help you in all ways, and to do 
other things more remarkable. Yet we may need 


THE SACRIFICE 165 

your aid, since generally that which is mighty works 
through that which is small, and what I want to 
know is whether we can count upon it.” 

“To the death, Lord,” she answered. 

“So be it, Dramana, for know that if you fail us 
certainly you will die.” 


/ 


CHAPTER XI 
The Sluice Gate 

All that night it poured, not merely in the usual 
tropical torrent, but positively in waterspouts. 
Seldom in my life have I heard such rain as that 
which fell upon the roof of the house where we were, 
which must have been wonderfully well built, for 
otherwise it would have given way. When we rose 
in the morning and went to the door to look out, all 
the place was swimming and a solid wall of water 
seemed to stretch from earth to heaven. 

“I think there will be a flood after this, Baas,” 
remarked Hans. 

“I think so, too,” I answered, “and if we were not 
here I wish that it might be deep enough to drown 
every human brute upon this island.” 

“ It cannot do that, Baas, because at the worst they 
would climb up the mountain, though it might get 
into the cave and give Heu-Heu a washing—which he 
needs.” 

“If it got into the cave, it would probably get 
into the mountain as well,” I began—then stopped, 
for an idea occurred to me. 

I had noticed that this cave sloped downwards 
somewhat steeply, I mean into the base of the moun¬ 
tain and towards its centre. Probably, in its origin 
it was a vent blown through the rock at some time 
in the past when the volcano was very active, which, 
for aught I knew, remained unblocked, or only 
166 


THE SLUICE GATE 


167 

slightly blocked. Suppose now that a great volume 
of water ran down that cave and vanished into the 
interior of the mountain, was it not probable that 
something unusual would happen? The volcano 
was still alive—this I knew from the smoke which 
hung above it, also by the stream of red-hot lava that 
we had seen trickling down its southern face—and 
fire and water do not agree well together. They 
make steam, and steam expands. This thought took 
such a persistent hold on me that I began to wonder 
whether it did not partake of the nature of an inspira¬ 
tion. However, I said nothing of it to Hans, who, 
being a savage, did not understand such matters. 

*v A little later food was brought to us by one of the 
serving priests. With it came a message from Dacha 
to the effect that he grieved he could not wait on us 
that day as he had many matters to which he must 
attend, but that the Lady Dramana would do so 
shortly and show us all there was to be seen, if the rain 
permitted. 

In due course she arrived—alone, as I had hoped she 
would—and at once began to talk of the rainfall of 
the previous night, which she said was such as had 
never been known in their country. She added that 
all the priests had been out that morning, dragging 
the great stone sluice gate into its place so as to keep 
out the water of the lake, lest the arable land should 
be flooded and the crops destroyed. 

I told her that I was much interested in such mat¬ 
ters, and asked questions about this sluice which she 
could not answer as she knew little of its working. 
She said, however, that she would show it to me so 
that I might study the system. 

I thanked her and inquired whether the lake had 
risen much. She answered, Not yet, but that prob¬ 
ably it would do so during the day and the following 


168 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

night when it became filled with the water brought 
down by the flooded river which ran into it from the 
country to the north. At any rate, this was feared, 
and it had been thought best to set the sluice in 
place, a difficult task because of its weight. Indeed, 
a woman who had gone to help out of curiosity had 
been caught by a lever—I understood that was what 
she meant—and killed. She still lay by the sluice, 
since it was not lawful for the priests of Heu-Heu or 
their servants to touch a dead body between the Feast 
of Illusions, which had been held on the previous 
night, and the Feast of Marriage, which would be 
held on the night of the morrow, when, she added 
significantly, they often touched plenty. 

“It is a Feast of Blood, then?” I said. 

“Yes, Lord, a Feast of Blood, and I pray that it 
may not be of your blood also.” 

“Have no fear of that,” I answered airily, though 
in truth I felt much depressed. Then I asked her to 
tell me exactly what was going to happen as to the 
delivery of the “Holy Bride.” 

“This, Lord,” she said. “Before midnight, when 
the moon should be at its fullest, a canoe comes, 
bringing the bride from the City of the Walloos. 
Priests receive her and tie her to the pillar that stands 
on the Rock of Offerings between the Everlasting 
Fires. Then the canoe goes and waits at a distance. 
The priests go also and leave the bride alone. I know 
it all, Lord, for I have been that bride. So she stands 
until the first ray of the rising sun strikes upon her. 
Then from the mouth of the cave comes out the 
high priest dressed in skins to resemble the image 
of the god, and followed by women and some of the 
Hairy savage folk shouting in triumph. He looses 
the bride, and they bear her into the cave, and there. 
Lord, she vanishes.” 


THE SLUICE GATE 169 

“Do you think that she will be brought at all, 
Dramana?” 

“Certainly she will be brought, since if my father, 
the Walloo, or Issicore, or any refused to send her, 
they would be killed by their own people, who believe 
that then disaster would overtake them. Unless you 
can save her by your arts. Lord, my sister Sabeela 
must become the wife of Heu-Heu, which means the 
wife of Dacha.” 

“I will think the matter over,” I said. “But if 
I make up my mind to help, am I right in understand¬ 
ing that you also desire to escape from this island ? ” 

“Lord, I have told you so already, and I will only 
add this. Dacha hates me and when I have served 
his purpose and he has in his hands Sabeela, the true 
heiress to the chieftainship over our people unless 
first I tread her road, certainly it will be my lot to 
stand where that poor woman stood last night, who 
slew herself to escape worse things. Oh, Lord, save 
me if you can!” 

“I will save you—if I can,” I replied, and I meant 
it—almost as much as I meant to save myself. 

Then I impressed upon her that she must obey me 
in all things without question, and this she swore to 
do. Also I asked her if she could provide us with a 
canoe. 

“It is impossible,” she replied. “Dacha is clever; 
he has bethought him that you might depart in a 
canoe. Therefore, every one of them has been moved 
round to the other side of the island where they are 
kept under watch of the Savage Folk. That is why 
he gives you leave to roam about the place, because 
he knows that you cannot leave it, unless you have 
wings, for the lake is too wide for any man to swim, 
and if it were not, the Walloo shore is haunted by 
crocodiles.” 


1 7 o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Now, my friends, as you may guess, this was a blow 
indeed. However, I kept my countenance and said 
that as this was the case something else must be ar¬ 
ranged, only asking casually if there were any croco¬ 
diles about this part of the island coast. She answered 
that there were none, because, as she supposed, the 
flames of the Everlasting Fires, or some smell from 
the smoke of the mountain, frightened them away. 

Next, as the torrents of rain had ceased, at any 
rate for a while, I suggested that we should go out, 
and we did so. Also I did not mind much about the 
weather, as to protect us from it she had brought with 
her for our use and her own three of the strangest 
waterproofs that ever I saw. These consisted of two 
giant leaves from some kind of waterlily that grew 
on the borders of the lake, sewn together, with a 
hole at the top of the leaves, where the stalk comes, 
for the wearer’s head to go through, and two open¬ 
ings left for his arms. For the rest no mackintosh 
ever turned wet so well as did these leaves, the only 
drawback about them, as I was informed, being that 
they must be renewed once in every three days. 

Arrayed in these queer garments we went out in 
rain that here we should call fairly heavy, though it 
was but the merest drizzle compared to what had 
gone before. This rain I may explain, had great ad¬ 
vantages so far as we were concerned, seeing that in it 
not even the most curious woman put her nose out¬ 
side her own door. So it came about that we were 
able to examine the village of the priests of Heu-Heu 
quite unobserved and at our leisure. 

This settlement was small since there were never 
more than fifty priests in the college, if so it may be 
called, to whom, of course, must be added their wives 
and women, on an average, perhaps, of three or four 
per man. 


THE SLUICE GATE 


171 

The odd thing was that there seemed to be no 
children and no old people. Either offspring did not 
arrive and folk died young upon the island, or in both 
cases they were made away with, perhaps as sacri¬ 
fices to fieu-Heu. I am sorry to say that in the 
pressure of great dangers I do not remember making 
any inquiry upon the point, or if I did I cannot recall 
the answer given. It was only afterwards that I 
reflected upon this strange circumstance. The fact 
remains that on the island there were no young and 
no aged. Another possible explanation, by the way, 
is that both may have been exported to the main¬ 
land. 

Here I will add that with the exception of Dra- 
mana and a few discarded wives who may have been 
* doomed to sacrifice, the women were fiercer bigots and 
more cruel votaries of Heu-Heu than were the men 
themselves. So, indeed, I had observed when I sat 
among them at the Feast of Illusions in the cave. 

For the rest they all lived in dwellings such as that 
which was given to us, and were waited upon by 
servants or slaves from the savage race that was 
called Heuheua. Low as these Heuheua were and 
disgusting as might be their appearance, like our 
South African Bushmen, they were clever in their 
way, and, when trained, could do many things. Also 
they were faithful to the commands of their god 
Heu-Heu, or rather to those of his priests, though 
they hated the Walloos, from whom these priests 
sprang, and waged continual war against them. 

Soon we had left the houses and were among the 
cultivated lands, all of which Dramana informed us 
were worked by the Heuheua slaves. These laboured 
here in gangs for a year at a time, and then were re¬ 
turned to their women in the forests on the mainland, 
for, except as servants, none of them were allowed 


172 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

upon the island. Those lands were extraordinarily 
fertile, as was shewn by the crops on them, which, 
although much beaten down by the torrential rain, 
were now ready for harvest. They were enclosed by 
a kind of sea wall built of blocks of lava and must at 
some time have been reclaimed from the muddy 
shallows of the lake, which accounted for their rich¬ 
ness. Everywhere about them ran irrigation chan¬ 
nels that were used in the dry sowing season and con¬ 
trolled by the sluice gate that has been mentioned. 
That is all I have to say about the gardens, except 
that the existence of this irrigation system is to 
my mind another proof that these Walloos sprang 
originally from some highly civilized race. Their fields 
extended to that extremity of the island which was 
nearest to the Walloo coast, and I know not how far 
in the other direction, for I did not go there. 

Standing upon this point we saw in the distance a 
number of moving specks upon the water. I asked 
Dramana if they were hippopotami, and she answered: 

“No, Lord, they are the Hairy Folk who, in obe¬ 
dience to the summons of the god, cross the lake upon 
bundles of reeds that they may be ready to fight in 
the coming war against the Walloo. Already there 
are hundreds of them gathered upon the farther side 
of the mountain, and by to-night all their able-bodied 
men will have come, leaving only the females, the 
aged, and the children hidden away in the depths 
of the forests. On the third day from now they will 
paddle back across the lake, led by the priests under 
the command of Dacha, and attack Walloo.” 

“A great deal may happen in three days,” I said, 
and dropped the subject. 

We walked back towards the village and the cave 
mouth by the sea wall, upon the top of which ran a 
path, and thus at last came to the Rock of Offering, 


173 


THE SLUICE GATE 

upon each side of which burned the two curious 
columns of flame that, I took it, were fed with 
natural gas generated in the womb of the volcano. 
They were not very large fires—at any rate, when I 
saw them—the flame may have been about eight or 
ten feet high, no more. But there they burned, and 
had done so, Dramana said, from the beginning of 
things. Between them, at a little distance, stood a 
post of stone with rings also of stone, to which the 
bride was bound. I noted that from these rings 
hung new ropes placed there to serve as the bonds of 
Sabeela during the coming night. 

Having seen all there was to see on this Rock of 
Offering, including the steps by which the victim was 
landed, we went on to a long shed with a steep reed 
roof, which contained the machinery, if so I can call 
it, that regulated the irrigation sluice. It had a 
heavy wooden door which Dramana unlocked with 
an odd-shaped stone key that she produced from a 
bag she was wearing. This key, she told us, had been 
given to her by Dacha with strict orders that she was 
to return it after we had examined the place, should 
we wish so to do. 

As it happened there was a good deal to examine. 
Near one end of the shed the main irrigation canal, 
which may have been twelve feet wide, passed be¬ 
neath it. Here, under the centre of the roof, was a 
pit of which the water that stood in it prevented us 
from seeing the depth. On either side of this pit 
were perpendicular grooves cut in the solid rock, very 
deep grooves that were exactly filled by a huge slab 
of dressed stone six or seven inches thick. When this 
stone, or the upper part of it, was lifted out of the 
rock floor of the channel, where normally it stood in 
its niche, forming part of the bed of the channel, it 
entirely cut off the inflow of water from the lake, and 


m HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER] 

was, moreover, tall enough to stop any possible addi- 

tional inflow at a time of flood. 

Perhaps I can make the thing clear in this way. 
When Good and I were last in London together we 
went to Madame Tussaud’s and saw the famous 
guillotine that was used in the French Revolution. 
The knife of that guillotine, you will remember, was 
raised between uprights, and when brought into ac¬ 
tion, let fall again to the bottom of the apparatus, 
severing the neck of the victim in its course Now 
imagine that those uprights were the rock walls of the 
pit, and that the knife, instead of being but a narrow 
thing, were a great sheet of steel, or rather stone. 
Then, when it was drawn to the top of the uprights 
from the niche at the bottom, it would entirely hll 
the space to the head of the grooves, and none ot the 
water that normally passed over it could flow between 
the uprights, or rather walls, because the sheet ot 
stone barred its passage. Now do you understand. 


As Good, who was stupid about such matters, 

looked doubtful, Allan went on: 

“Perhaps a better illustration would be that ot 
a portcullis; even you, Good, have seen a port¬ 
cullis, which, by the way, must mean a door in a 
groove. Imagine a subterranean or rather sub¬ 
aqueous, portcullis that,when itwas desired to shut it, 
rose in its grooves from below instead of tailing trom 
above, and you will have an exact idea of the water 
door of the priests of Heu-Heu. I’d draw it for you 
if it wasn’t so late.” , 

“ I see now,” said Good, and I suppose they wound 
the thing up with a windlass.” ,, 

“Why not say with a donkey engine at once, Good f 
Windlasses had not occurred to the Walloos. No, 
they acted on a simpler and more ancient plan. 


THE SLUICE GATE i 75 

They lifted it with a lever. Near the top of this slab 
of rock, or water door, was drilled a hole. Through 
this hole passed a bolt of stone, of which the ends 
went into the cut-out base of the lever, thus forming 
a kind of hinge. The lever itself was a bar of stone— 
evidently they would not trust to wood which rots— 
massive and about twenty feet long, so as to obtain 
the best possible purchase. When the door was 
quite down in its niche at the bottom of the bed of 
the channel, the end of the lever naturally rose high 
into the air, almost to the top of the pitched roof 
of the shed, indeed.” 

When it was desired to raise the door so as to regu¬ 
late the amount of water passing into the irrigation 
channel beyond, or to cut it off altogether in case of 
flood, the lever was pulled down by ropes that were 
tied to its end by the strength of a number of men and 
that end was passed into, or rather under, one or other 
of half a dozen hooks of stone hollowed in a facepof 
solid rock. Here, of course, it remained immovable 
until it was released, again by the united strength of 
a number of men, and flew back to the roof, letting 
the portcullis slab drop into its bed or groove at the 
bottom of the channel, thus admitting the lake water. 

On the present occasion, as a great flood was an¬ 
ticipated, this slab was raised to its full extent, and 
when I saw it, the top of it stood five or six feet above 
the level of the water, while the end of the handle 
of the lever was made fast beneath the lowest hook of 
rock within a foot of the floor. 

Hans and I examined this primitive but effective 
apparatus for preventing inundations very carefully. 
Supposing, thought I, that any one wanted to release 
that lever so that the door fell and water rushed in 
over it, how could it be done? Answer: It could 


i 7 6 HEU-HEU, or the monster 

only be done by the application of the united force of 
a great number of men pressing on the end ot the 
lever till it was pushed clear of the point of the hook, 
when naturally it would fly upwards and the door 
would fall. Or, secondly, by breaking the lever in 
two, when, of course, the same thing would happen 
Now two men, that is Hans and myself, could not 
possibly release this beam of stone from its hook; 
indeed, I doubt whether ten men could have done it. 
Nor could two men possibly break that beam ot stone. 
Perhaps, if they had suitable marble saws, such as 
workers in stone use, and plenty of time, they might 
cut it in two, although it seemed to be made of a kind 
of rock that was as hard as iron. But we had no saw. 
Therefore, so far as we were concerned the task was 
impossible; that idea must be dismissed. 

Still, there is a way out of most difficulties it only 
it can be hit upon. My own mental resources were 
exhausted, it is true, but Hans remained, and possibly 
he might have some suggestion of value to make. He 
was a curious creature, Hans, and often his concen¬ 
trated primitive instincts led him more directly to the 
mark than did all my civilized reasonings. 

So speaking without emphasis in Dutch, for I did 
not wish Dramana to guess my internal excitement, I 
put the problem to Hans in these words: 

“Supposing that you and I, Hans, with none to 
help, except perhaps this woman, found it necessary 
to break that bar of stone and cause the water gate 
to fall, so as to let in the lake flood over it, how could 
we do it with such means as we have in this place ? ” 
Hans stared about him, twiddling his hat in his 
usual vacuous fashion, and remarked, 

“I don’t know, Baas.” 

“Then find out, for I want to learn if your con¬ 
clusions agree with my own,” I answered. 


THE SLUICE GATE 


1 77 


“I think that if they agree with the Baas’s, they 
will agree with nothing at all,” said Hans, delivering 
this shrewd and perfectly accurate shot with such a 
wooden expression of utter stupidity that I could 
have kicked him. 

Next, without more words, he removed himself 
from my neighbourhood and began to examine the 
lever in a casual fashion, especially the hook of rock 
which held it in its place. Presently he remarked in 
Arabic, so that Dramana might understand, that he 
wanted to see how deep the pit was, which we could 
not do from the floor of the shed, and instantly climbed 
up the slope of the beam-like lever with all the agility 
of a monkey, and sat himself, cross-legged, on the 
top of it, just below the stone hinge that I have 
described. Here he remained for a while, apparently 
staring into the darkness of the hole or pit on the 
farther side of the stone slab, where, of course, it was 
almost empty, as the door cut off the water from the 
irrigation channel on the island side. 

“That hole is too dark to see into,” he said, 
presently, and swarmed down the shaft again. Then 
he called my attention to the body of the dead woman 
who Dramana had told us was struck by the lever and 
killed while it was being dragged into place, which lay 
almost out of sight in the shadow by the wall of the 
shed. We went to look at her. She was a tali 
woman, handsome, like all these people, and young. 
Outwardly she showed no signs of injury, for her 
long white robe was unstained. I suppose that she 
had been crushed between the lever and the hook, 
or perhaps struck on the side of the head as it was 
being swung into place. Whilst we were examining 
the corpse of this unfortunate, Hans said to me, still 
speaking in Dutch, 

“Does the Baas remember that we have two 


i 7 8 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

pound tins of the best rifle powder in our bag and that 
he scolded me because I did not take them out when 
we left the house of the Walloo, saying that it 
was foolish to bring them with us as they would be 
quite useless to us on the island ?” 

I replied that I had some recollection of the in¬ 
cident, and that, as a matter of fact, they had been 
heavy to carry. Then Hans proceeded to set a riddle 
in his irritating and sententious way, asking, 

“Who does the Baas think knows most about 
things that are to happen—the Baas or the Baas’s 
Reverend Father in Heaven ?” 

“My father, I presume, Hans,” I replied airily. 

“The Baas is right. The Baas’s father in the sky 
knows much more than the Baas, but sometimes I 
think that Hans knows better than either, at any 
rate, here on the earth.” 

I stared at the little wretch, rendered speechless 
by his irreverent impudence, but he went on un¬ 
abashed: 

“I did not forget to leave that powder behind, 
Baas; I brought it with me thinking that it might be 
useful, because with powder you can blow up men and 
other things. Also, I did not wish it to stay where we 
might never see it again.” 

“Well, what about the powder?” I asked. 

“Nothing much, Baas. At least, only this. These 
Walloo do not bore stones very well; they make the 
holes too big for what has to go through them. That 
in the water gate is so large that there would be room 
to put two pound flasks of powder beneath the pin, 
now that the strain lifts it up to the top of the hole.” 

“And what would be the use of putting two flasks 
of powder in such a place?” I inquired carelessly, 
for at the moment I was thinking about the dead 
woman. 


THE SLUICE GATE 


179 

“None at all, Baas; none at all. Only I thought 
the Baas asked me how we could loose that stone 
arm. If two pounds of powder were put into the 
hole, covered with a little mud, and fired, I think that 
they would blow out the bit of rock at the top of 
the hole, or break the pin, or both. Then, as there 
would be nothing to hold it, the stone door would fall 
down and the lake would come in and water the fields 
of the priests of Heu-Heu, if in his wisdom and kind¬ 
ness the Baas thinks they want it at harvest time, and 
after so much rain.” 

“You little wretch,” I said; “you infernal, clever 
little wretch! Hang me if I don’t think you have got 
hold of the right end of the stick this time. Only the 
business will take a lot of thinking out and arrange¬ 
ment.” 

“Yes, Baas, and we had better do that in the house, 
which, as the Baas knows, is quite close, only about a 
hundred paces away. Let us get out of this place, 
Baas, before the lady begins to smell rats; only, as 
you go, take a good squint at that hole in the top of 
the stone door and the rock pin which goes through 
it.” 

Then Hans, who all this while had been staring at 
the body of the woman and apparently talking about 
her, bowed towards it, remarking in Arabic, “Allah, 
I mean Heu-Heu, receive her into his bosom,” and 
retreated reverentially. 

So we went away, but I, lingering behind, ex¬ 
amined the hole and the pin very carefully. 

Hans was quite right: there was just room left in 
the former to accommodate two tin flasks of powder, 
also, there were not more than three inches of rock 
on the topside of the hole. Surely two pounds of 
powder would suffice to blow out this ring of stone 
and perhaps to shatter the pin as well. 


CHAPTER XII 
The Plot 

We left the shed and, after she had locked its door 
very carefully and returned the stone key to her 
pouch, were taken by Dramana to see the famous 
Tree of Illusions, of which the juice and leaves, if 
powdered and burnt, could produce such strange 
dreams and intoxicating effects. It grew in a large 
walled space that was called Heu-Heu’s Garden, 
though nothing else was planted there. Dramana 
assured us indeed that this tree had a poisonous 
effect upon all other vegetation. 

Passing the wall by a door of which she also pro¬ 
duced some kind of key out of her bag, we found our¬ 
selves standing in front of the famous tree, if so it can 
be called, for its growth was shrub-like and its top¬ 
most twigs were not more than twenty feet above the 
ground. On the other hand, it covered a great area 
and had a trunk two or three feet thick from which 
projected a vast number of branches whereof the 
extremities lay upon the soil, and I think rooted 
there, after the manner of wild figs, though of this I 
am not certain. 

It was an unholy product of nature, inasmuch as it 
had no real foliage, only dark green, euphorbia-like and 
fleshy fingers—indeed, I think it must have been some 
variety of euphorbia. At the extremities of these 
green fingers appeared purple-coloured blooms with a 
most evil smell that reminded me of the odour of 
180 


THE PLOT 


181 


something dead; also down their sides—for, like the 
orange, the tree appeared to have the property of 
flowering and fruiting at the same time—were yellow 
seed vessels about the size of those of a prickly pear. 
Except that the trunk was covered with corrugated 
gray bark and that the finger-like leaves were full of 
resinous white milk like those of other euphorbias, 
there is nothing more to say about it. I should add, 
however, that Dramana told us no other specimen 
existed, either on the mainland or the island, and 
that to attempt its propagation elsewhere was a 
capital offence. In short, the Tree of Illusions was 
a monopoly of the priests. 

Hans set to work and cut a large faggot of the 
leaves, or fingers, which he tied up with a piece of 
string he had in his pocket, to be conveyed to Zikali, 
though there seemed to be such a small prospect of 
their ever reaching him. It was not an agreeable job, 
for when it was cut the white juice of the tree spurted 
out, and if it fell upon the flesh, burned like caustic. 

I was glad when it came to an end because of the 
stench of the flowers, but before I left I took the op¬ 
portunity, when Dramana was not looking, of picking 
some of the ripest of the fruits and putting them in 
my pocket, with the idea of planting the seeds should 
we ever escape from that country. I am sorry to say, 
however, that I never did so, as the sharp spines that 
grew upon the fruits wore a hole in the lining of my 
pocket, which already was thin from use, and they 
tumbled out unobserved. Evidently the Tree of 
Illusions did not intend to be reproduced elsewhere; 
at least, that was Hans’s explanation. 

On our way back to the house we had to pass round 
a lava boulder on the lake side of the sluice shed, 
crossing by a little bridge the water channel that ran 
beneath it, near to a flight of landing steps that 


182 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

were used by fishermen. I examined this channel 
which pierced the sea wall and here, outside the 
sluice gate, was about twenty feet wide. At the side 
of it, built into the wall, was a slab of stone on which 
were marks, cut there, no doubt, to indicate the height 
of the water level and the rate at which it rose. I 
noticed that the topmost of these marks was already 
covered, and that during the little while I stood and 
watched, it vanished altogether, showing that the 
water was rising rapidly. 

Seeing that I was interested, Dramana remarked 
that the priests said that tradition never told of the 
water having reached that topmost mark before, even 
during the greatest rains. She added that she sup¬ 
posed it had done so now owing to the unprecedented 
wetness of the summer and great tempests farther up 
the river that fed the lake, of which we were experi¬ 
encing the last. 

“ It is fortunate that you have such a strong door to 
keep out the water,” I said. 

“Yes, Lord,” she answered, “since if it broke all 
this side of the island would be flooded. If you look 
you will see that already the lake stands higher than 
the cultivated lands and even than the mouth of the 
Cave of Heu-Heu. It is told in tradition that when 
first, hundreds of years ago, these lands were re¬ 
claimed from the mud of the lake and the wall was 
built to protect them, the priests of Heu-Heu trusted 
to the rain for their crops. Then came many dry 
seasons, and they cut a way through the wall and let 
in water to irrigate them, making the sluice gate that 
you have seen to keep it out if it rose too high. An 
old priest of that time said that this was madness 
and would one day prove their destruction, but they 
laughed at him and made the sluice. He was wrong 
also, since thenceforward their crops were doubled, 


THE PLOT 


1S3 

and the gate is so well-fashioned that no floods, 
however great, have ever passed through or over it; 
nor can they do so, because the top of the stone gate 
rises to the height of a child above the level of the 
water wall which separates the lake from the re¬ 
claimed land.” 

“The lake might come over the crest of the wall,” 
I suggested. 

“No, Lord. If you look you will see that the wall 
is raised far above its level, to a height that no flood 
could ever reach.” 

“Then safety depends upon the gate, Dramana?” 

“Yes, Lord. If the flood were high enough, which 
it never has been within the memory of man, the 
safety of the town would depend upon the gate, and 
that of the Cave of Heu-Heu also. Before the 
mountain broke into flame and destroyed the city 
of our ancestors, the new mouth was made on the 
level, for formerly, it is said, it was entered from the 
slope above. Moreover, there is no danger, because 
if any accident happened and the flood broke through, 
all could flee up the mountain. Only then the cul¬ 
tivated land would be ruined for a time and there 
might be scarcity, during which people must obtain 
corn from the mainland or draw it from that which is 
stored in pits in the hillside, to be used in case of 
war or siege.” 

I thanked her for her explanation of these inter¬ 
esting hydraulic problems, and after another glance 
at the scale rock, on which the marks had now van¬ 
ished completely, showing me that the lake was still 
rising rapidly, we went to the house to rest and eat. 

Here Dramana left us, saying that she would 
return at sundown. I begged her to do so without 
fail. This I did for her own sake, a fact that I did 
not explain. Personally, I was indifferent as to 


i8 4 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

whether she came back or not, having learned all she 
could teach us, but as I was planning catastrophe, I 
was anxious, should it come, to give her any chance 
of escape that might offer for ourselves. After all, 
she had been a good friend to us and was one who 
hated Dacha and Heu-Heu and loved her sister 
Sabeela 

Hans led her to the door and in an awkward 
fashion made much ado in helping her to put on her 
leaf raincoat, which she had discarded and was 
carrying. For now suddenly the rain, which had 
almost ceased while we walked, had begun to fall 
again in torrents. . . 

When we had eaten and were left alone within 
closed doors, Hans and I took counsel together. 

“What is to be done, Hans?” I asked, wishing to 
hear his views. 

“This, I think, Baas,” he answered. “When it 
draws near to midnight we must go to hide near the 
steps, there by the Rock of Offerings, not the smaller 
ones near the sluice gate. Then when the canoe 
comes and lands the Lady Sabeela to be married, as 
soon as she has been taken and tied to the post we 
must swim out to it, get aboard, and go back to 
Walloo-town.” 

“But that would not save the Lady Sabeela, 
Hans.” 

“No, Baas, I was not troubling my head about the 
Lady Sabeela who I hope will be happy with Heu- 
Heu, but it would save us , though perhaps we shall 
have to leave some of our things behind. If Issicore 
and the rest wish to save the Lady Sabeela, they had 
better cease from being cowards who are afraid of a 
stone statue and a handful of priests, and do so for 
themselves.” 

“Listen, Hans,” I said. “We came here to get a 


THE PLOT 185 

bundle of stinking leaves for Zikali and to save the 
Lady Sabeela who is the victim of folly and wicked¬ 
ness. The first we have got, the second remains to 
be done. I mean to save that unfortunate woman, 
or to die in the attempt.” 

“Yes, Baas. I thought the Baas would say that, 
since we are all fools in our different ways, and how 
can any one dig out of his heart the folly that his 
mother put there before he was born? Therefore, 
since the Baas is a fool, or in love with the Lady 
Sabeela because she is so pretty—I don’t know 
which—we must make another plan and try to get 
ourselves killed in carrying it out.” 

“What plan?” I asked, disregarding his crude 
satire. 

“I don’t know, Baas,” he said, staring at the 
roof. “If I had something to drink, I might be able 
to think of one, as all this wet has filled my head with 
fog, just as my stomach is full of water. Still, Baas, 
do I understand the Baas to say that if that stone 
gate were broken the lake would flow in and flood 
this place, also the Cave of Heu-Heu, where all the 
priests and their wives will be gathered worshipping 
him ?” 

“Yes, Hans, so I believe, and very quickly. As 
soon as the water began to run it would tear away 
the wall on either side of the sluice and enter in a 
mighty flood; especially as now the rain is again 
falling heavily.” 

“Then, Baas, we must let the stone fall, and as we 
are not strong enough to do it ourselves, we must ask 
this to help us,” and he produced from his bag the two 
pounds of powder done up in stout flasks of soldered 
tin as it had left the maker in England. “As I am 
called Lord-of-the-Fire, the priests of Heu-Heu will 
think it quite natural,” he added with a grin. 


186 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“Yes, Hans,” I said, nodding, “but the question 
is—how?” 

“I think like this, Baas. We must pack these two 
tins tight into that hole in the rock door beneath the 
pin with the help of little stones, and cover them over 
thickly with mud to give the powder time to work 
before the tins are blown out of the hole. But first 
we must bore holes in the tins and make slow matches 
and put the ends of them into the holes. Only how 
are we to make these slow matches?” 

I looked about me. There on a shelf in the room 
stood the clay lamps with which it was lighted at 
night, and by them lay a coil of the wick which these 
people used, made of fine and dry plaited rushes, 
many feet of it. 

“There’s the very stuff!” I said. 

We got it down, we soaked it in a mixture of the 
native oil, mixed with gunpowder that I extracted 
from a cartridge, and behold! in half an hour we had 
two splendid slow matches that by experiment I 
reckoned would take quite five minutes to burn be¬ 
fore the fire reached the powder. That was all we 
could do for the moment. 

“Now, Baas,” said Hans, when we had finished our 
preparations and hidden the matches away to dry, 
“all this is very nice, but supposing that the stone 
falls and the water runs in and everything goes softly, 
how are we to get off the island? If we drown the 
priests of Heu-Heu—though I do not think we shall 
drown them because they will bolt up the mountain¬ 
side like rock rabbits—we drown ourselves also, and 
travel in their company to the Place of Fires of which 
your Reverend Father was so fond of talking. It 
will be very nice to try to drown the priests of Heu- 
Heu, Baas, but we shall be no better off, nor will the 
Lady Sabeela if we leave her tied to that post.” 


THE PLOT 187 

“We shall not leave her, Hans, that is if things go 
as I hope; we shall leave someone else.” 

Hans saw light and his face brightened. 

“Oh, Baas, now I understand! You mean that 
you will tie to the post the Lady Dramana, who is 
older and not quite so nice-looking as the Lady 
Sabeela, which is why you told her she must stay 
with us all the time after she comes back? That is 
quite a good plan, especially as it will save us trouble 
with her afterwards. Only, Baas, it will be necessary 
to give her a little knock on the head first lest she 
should make a noise and betray us in her selfish¬ 
ness.” 

“Hans, you are a brute to think that I mean any¬ 
thing of the sort,” I said indignantly. 

“Yes, Baas, of course I am a brute who think of 
you and myself before I do of others. But then who 
will the Baas leave? Surely he does not mean to 
leave me dressed up in a bride’s robe?” he added in 
genuine alarm. 

“Hans, you are a fool as well as a brute, for, silly 
as you may be, how could I get on without you ? I 
do not mean to leave any one living. I mean to 
leave that dead woman in the gate house.” 

He stared at me in evident admiration and an¬ 
swered, 

“The Baas is growing quite clever. For once he 
has thought of something that I have not thought of 
first. It is a good plan—if we can carry her there 
without any one seeing us, and the Lady Sabeela does 
not betray us by making a noise, laughing and crying 
both together like stupid women do. But suppose that 
it all happens, there will be four of us, and how are 
we to get into that canoe, Baas, if those cowardly 
Walloos wait so long?” 

“Thus, Hans. When the canoe lands the Lady 


i88 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Sabeela and she has been tied to the post, if Dramana 
speaks truth, it waits for the dawn at a little distance. 
While it is waiting you must swim out to it, taking 
your pistol with you, which you will hold above your 
head with one hand to keep the cartridges dry, but 
leaving everything else behind. Then you must get 
into the boat, telling the Walloo and Issicore, or 
whoever is there, who you are. Later, when all is 
quiet, the Lady Dramana and I will carry the dead 
woman to the post and tie her there in place of Sa¬ 
beela. After this you will bring the canoe to the 
landing steps—the small landing steps by the big 
boulder which we saw near to the sluice mouth on 
the lake wall, those that Dramana told us were used 
by fishermen, because it is not lawful for them to 
set foot upon the Rock of Offerings. You remember 
them?” 

“Yes, Baas. You mean the ones at the end of a 
little pier which Dramana also said was built to keep 
mud from the lake from drifting into the sluice mouth 
and blocking it.” 

“When I see you coming, Hans, I shall fire the slow 
matches and we will run down to the pier and get into 
the canoe. I hope that the priests and their women 
in the cave, which is at a distance, will not hear the 
powder explode beneath that shed, and that when 
they come out of the cave they will find the water 
running in and swamping them. This might give them 
something else to do besides pursuing us, as doubt¬ 
less they would otherwise, for I am sure they have 
canoes hidden away somewhere near by, although 
Dramana may not know where they are. Now do 
you understand?” 

“Oh, yes, Baas. As I said, the Baas has grown 
quite clever all of a sudden. I think it must be that 
Wine of Dreams he drank last night that has woke up 


THE PLOT 


189 

his mind. But the Baas has missed one thing. 
Supposing that I get into the canoe safely, how am I 
to make those people row in to the landing steps and 
take you off? Probably they will be afraid, Baas, or 
say that it is against their custom, or that Heu- 

Heu will catch them if they do, or something of the 

. >> 
sort. 

“You will talk to them gently, Hans, and if they 
will not listen, then you will talk to them with your 
pistol. Yes, if necessary, you will shoot one or more 
of them, Hans, after which I think the rest will obey 
you. But I hope that this will not be necessary, 
since if Issicore is there, certainly he will desire to 
win back Sabeela from Heu-Heu. Now we have 
settled everything, and I am going to sleep for a 
while, with the slow matches under me to dry them, 
as I advise you to do also. We had little rest last 
night, and to-night we shall have none at all, so we 
may as well take some while we can. But first bring 
that mat and tie up the twigs from the stinking tree 
for Zikali, on whom be every kind of curse for sending 
us on this job.” . 

“Settled everything!” I repeated to myself with 
inward sarcasm as I lay down and shut my eyes. In 
truth, nothing at all was ever less settled, since suc¬ 
cess in such a desperate adventure depended upon a 
string of hypotheses long enough to reach from where 
we were to Capetown. Our case was an excellent 
example of the old proverb: 


If ifs and ands made pots and pans, 
There’d be no work for tinkers’ hands. 


If the canoe came; if it waited off the rock; if 
Hans could swim out to it without being observed and 
get aboard; if he could persuade those fetish-ridden 


i9o HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Walloos to come to take us off; if we could carry out 
our little game about the powder undetected; if 
the powder went off all right and broke up the sluice- 
handle as per plan; if we could free Sabeela from the 
post; if she did not play the fool in some female 
fashion; if blackguards of sorts did not manage to cut 
our throats during all these operations, and a score of 
other “ifs,” why, then our pots and pans would be 
satisfactorily manufactured and perhaps the priests of 
Heu-Heu would be satisfactorily frightened away or 
drowned. As it was, it looked to me as though, so far 
from not getting any rest that night, we should slum¬ 
ber more soundly than ever we did before—in the last 
long sleep of all. 

Well, it could not be helped, so I just fell back 
upon my favourite fatalism, said my prayers and 
went off to sleep, which, thank God, I can do at any 
time and under almost any circumstances. Had it 
not been for that gift I should have been dead long 
ago. 

When I woke up it was dark, and I found Dramana 
standing over me; indeed, it was her entry that roused 
me. I looked at my watch and discovered to my sur¬ 
prise that it was past ten o’clock at night. 

“Why did you not wake me before?” I said to 
Hans. 

“What was the use, Baas, seeing that there was 
nothing to be done and it is dull to be idle without a 
drop to drink?” 

That’s what he said, but the fact was that he had 
been fast asleep himself. Well, I was thankful, as 
thus we got rid of many weary hours of waiting. 

Suddenly I made up my mind to tell Dramana 
everything, and did so. There was something about 
this woman that made me trust her; also, obviously, 
she was mad with desire to escape from Dacha, whom 


THE PLOT 


191 

she hated and who hated her and had determined to 
murder her as soon as he had obtained possession of 
Sabeela. 

She listened and stared at me, amazed at the bold¬ 
ness of my plans. 

“It may all end well,” she said, “though there is 
the magic of the priests to be feared which may tell 
them things that their eyes do not see.” 

“I will risk the magic,” I said. 

“There is also another thing,” she went on. “We 
cannot get into the place where the stone gate is which 
you would destroy. As I was bidden, when I went 
back to the cave, I gave up the bag in which I carried 
the key and that of Heu-Heu’s Garden to Dacha, and 
he has put it away, I know not where. The door is 
very strong, Lord, and cannot be broken down, and 
if I went to ask Dacha for the key again he would 
guess all, especially as the water is rising more fast 
than it ever rose before in the memory of man, and 
priests have been to make sure that the stone gate is 
fixed so that it cannot be moved—yes, and bound 
down the handle with ropes.” 

Now I sat still, not knowing what to say, for I had 
overlooked this matter of the key. While I did so I 
heard Hans chuckling idiotically. 

“What are you laughing at, you little donkey?” I 
asked. “ Is it a time to laugh when all our plans have 
come to nothing?” 

“No, Baas, or rather, yes, Baas. You see, Baas, I 
guessed that something of this sort might happen, so, 
just in case it should, I took the key out of the 
Lady Dramana’s bag and put in a stone of about the 
same weight in place of it. Here it is, and from his 
pocket he produced that ponderous and archaic 
lock-opening instrument. 

“That was wise. Only you say, Dramana, that 


i 9 2 heu-heu, or the monster 

the priests have been to the shed. How did they get 
in without the key?” I asked. 

“Lord, there are two keys. He who is called the 
Watcher of the Gate has one of his own. According 
to his oath he carries it about him all day at his girdle 
and sleeps with it at night. The key I had was that 
of the high priest, who uses it, and others that he 
may look into all things when he pleases, though this 
he does seldom, if ever.” 

“So far so good, then, Dramana. Have you aught 
to tell us?” 

“Yes, Lord. You will do well to escape from this 
island to-night, if you can, since at to-day’s council 
an oracle has gone forth from Heu-Heu that you and 
your companion are to be sacrificed at the bridal 
feast to-morrow. It is an offering to the Wood- 
dwellers, who now know that the woman was killed 
by you on the river and say that if you are allowed 
to live they will not fight against the Walloos. I 
think also that I am to be sacrificed with you.” 

“Are we indeed?” I said, reflecting to myself that 
any scruples I might have had as to attempting to 
drown out these fanatical brutes were now extinct for 
reasons which quite satisfied my conscience. I did 
not intend to be sacrificed if I could help it, then or 
at any future time, and evidently the best way to 
prevent this would be to give the prospective sacri- 
ficers a dose of their own medicine. From that mo¬ 
ment I became as ruthless as Hans himself. 

Now I understood why we were being treated with 
so much courtesy and allowed to see everything we 
wished. It was to lull our suspicions. What did it 
matter how much we learned, if within a few hours 
we were to be sent to a land whence we could commu¬ 
nicate it to no one else? 

I asked more particularly about this oracle, but 


193 


THE PLOT 

only got answers from Dramana that I could not 
understand. It appeared, however, that as she said, 
it had undoubtedly been issued in reply to prayers 
from the savage Hairy Folk, who demanded satis- 
faction for the death of their countrywoman on the 
river, and threatened rebellion if it were not granted. 
This explained everything, and really the details did 
not matter. . 

Having collected all the information I could, we sat 
down to supper, during which Dramana told us inci¬ 
dentally that it had been arranged that our arms, 
which were known “to spit out fire,” should be stolen 
from us while we slept before dawn, so as to make us 
helpless when we were seized. 

So it came to this: if we were to act at all, it must 

be at once. r , . 

I ate as much as I was able, because food gives 
strength, and Hans did the same. Indeed, I am sure 
that he would have made an excellent meal even in 
sight of the noose which his neck was about to occupy. 
Eat and drink, for to-morrow we die, would have been 
Hans's favourite motto if he had known it, as perhaps 
he did. Indeed, we did drink also of some of the native 
liquor which Dramana had brought with her, since I 
thought that a moderate amount of alcohol would do 
us both good, especially Hans, who had the prospect 
of a cold swim before him. Immediately I had swal- 
lowed the stuff I regretted it, since it occurred to me 
that it might be drugged. However, it was not; 
Dramana had seen to that. 

When we had finished our food we packed up our 
small belongings in the most convenient way we 
could. One half of these I gave to Dramana to carry, 
as she was a strong woman, and, of course, as he had 
to swim, Hans could be burdened with nothing except 
his pistol and the bundle of twigs from the iree ot 


194 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Illusions, which we thought might help both to sup¬ 
port and to conceal him in the water. 

Then about eleven o'clock we started, throwing 
over our heads goatskin rugs that had served for 
coverings on our beds, to make us resemble those 
animals if that were possible. 


\ 


CHAPTER XIII 
The Terrible Night 

Leaving the house very softly, we found that the 
torrential rain had dwindled to a kind of heavy driz¬ 
zle which thickened the air, while on the surface of the 
lake and the low-lying cultivated land there hung 
a heavy mist. This, of course, was very favour¬ 
able to us, since even if there were watchers about 
they could not see us unless we stumbled right into 
them. 

As a matter of fact I think that there was none, all 
the population of the place being collected at the 
ceremony in the cave. We neither saw nor heard any¬ 
body; not even a dog barked, for these animals, of 
which there were few on the island, were sleeping in 
the houses out of the wet and cold. Above the mist, 
however, the great full moon shone in a clear sky 
which suggested that the weather was mending, as in 
fact proved to be the case, the tempest of rain, which 
we learned afterwards had raged for months with 
some intervals of fine weather, having worn itself 
out at last. 

We reached the sluice house, and to our surprise 
found that the door was unlocked. Supposing that it 
had been left thus through carelessness by the in¬ 
specting priests, we entered softly and closed it behind 
us. Then I lit a candle, some of which I always 
carried with me, and held it up that we might look 
about us. Next moment I stepped back horror- 
195 


196 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

struck, for there on the coping of the water shaft sat 
a man with a great spear in his hand. 

Whilst I wondered what to do, staring at this man, 
who seemed to be half asleep and even more fright¬ 
ened than I was myself, with the greater quickness of 
the savage, Hans acted. He sprang at the fellow as a 
leopard springs. I think he drew his knife* but I am 
not sure. At any rate, I heard a blow and then the 
light of the candle shone upon the soles of the man’s 
feet as he vanished backwards into the pit of water. 
What happened to him there I do not know; so far as 
we were concerned he vanished for ever. 

“How is this ? You told us no one would be here,” 
I said to Dramana savagely, for I suspected a trap. 

She fell upon her knees, thinking, probably, that I 
was going to kill her with the man’s spear which I had 
picked up, and answered, 

“Lord, I do not know. I suppose that the priests 
grew suspicious and set one of their number to watch. 
Or it may have been because of the great flood which 
is rising fast.” 

Believing her explanations, I told her to rise, and 
we set to work. Having fastened the door from 
within, Hans climbed up the lever, and by the light 
of the candle, which could not betray us, as there were 
no windows to the shed, fixed the two flasks of powder 
in the hole in the stone gate immediately beneath the 
pin of the lever. Then, as we had arranged, he 
wedged them tight with pebbles that we had brought 
with us. 

This done, I procured a quantity of the sticky clay 
with which the walls of the shed were plastered, tak¬ 
ing it from a spot where the damp had come through 
and made it moist. This clay we stuck all over the 
flasks and the stones to a thickness of several inches. 
Only immediately beneath the pin we left an opening, 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 


197 


hoping thereby to concentrate the force of the explo¬ 
sion on it and on the upper rim of the hole that was 
bored through the sluice gate. The slow matches, 
which now were dry, we inserted in the holes we had 
made in the flasks, bringing them out through the 
clay encased in two long, hollow reeds that we had 
drawn from the roof of our house where we lodged, 
hoping thus to keep the damp away from them. 

Thus arranged, their ends hung to within six feet 
of the ground, where they could easily be lighted, 
even in a hurry. 

By now it was a quarter past eleven, and the most 
terrible and dangerous part of our task must be faced. 
Lifting the corpse of the dead woman who had been 
killed, presumably, by a blow from the lever that 
morning, Hans and I—Dramana would not touch 
her—bore her out of the shed. Followed by Dramana 
with all our goods, for we dared not leave them be¬ 
hind, as our retreat might be cut off*, we carried her 
with infinite labour, for she was very heavy, some 
fifty yards to a spot I had noted during our examina¬ 
tion in the morning at the edge of the Rock of Offer¬ 
ing, which spot, fortunately, rose to a height of six 
feet or rather less above the level of the surrounding 
ground. Here there was a little hollow in the rock 
face washed out by the action of water; a small, 
roofless cavity large enough to shelter the three of us 
and the corpse as well. 

In this place we hid, for there, fortunately, the 
shape of the surrounding rock cut off the glare from 
the two eternal fires, which in so much wet seemed 
to be burning dully and with a good deal of smoke, 
the nearer of them at a distance of not more than a 
dozen paces from us. The post to which the victim 
was to be tied was perhaps the length of a cricket 
pitch away. 


198 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

In this hiding hole we could scarcely be discovered 
unless by ill fortune someone walked right on to the 
top of us or approached from behind. We crouched 
down and waited. A while later, shortly before mid¬ 
night, in the great stillness we heard a sound of pad¬ 
dles on the lake. The canoe was coming! A minute 
afterwards we distinguished the voices of men talking 
quite close to us. 

Lifting my head, I peered very cautiously oyer the 
top of the rock. A large canoe was approaching the 
landing steps, or rather, where these had been, for 
now, except the topmost, they were under water be¬ 
cause of the flood. On the rock itself four priests, 
clad in white and wearing veils over their faces with 
eyeholes cut in them, which made them look like 
monks in old pictures of the Spanish Inquisition, were 
marching towards these steps. As they reached them, 
so did the canoe. Next, from its prow was thrust a 
tall woman, entirely draped in a white cloak that 
covered both head and body, who from her height 
might very well be Sabeela. 

The priests received her without a word, for all this 
drama was enacted in utter silence, and half led, half 
carried her to the stone post between the fires, where, 
so far as I could see through the mist—that night I 
blessed the mist, as we do in church in one of the 
psalms—no, it is the mist that blesses the Lord, but it 
does not matter—they bound her to the post. Then, 
still in utter silence, they turned and marched away 
down the sloping rock to the mouth of the cave, where 
they vanished. The canoe also paddled backwards a 
few yards—not far, I judged from the number of 
strokes taken—and there floated quietly. 

So far all had happened as Dramana told us that it 
must. In a whisper I asked her if the priests would 
return. She answered no; no one would come on to 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 199 

the rock till sunrise, when Heu-Heu, accompanied by 
women, would issue from the cave to take his bride. 
She swore that this was true, since it was the greatest 
of crimes for any one to look upon the Holy Bride be¬ 
tween the time that she was bound to the rock and 
the appearance of the sun above the horizon. 

“Then the sooner we get to business the better,” I 
said, setting my teeth, and without stopping to ask 
her what she meant by saying that Heu-Heu would 
come with the women, when, as we knew well, there 
was no such person. 

“Come on, Hans, while the mist still lies thick; 
it may lift at any moment,” I added. 

Swiftly, desperately, we clambered on to the rock, 
dragging the dead woman after us. Staggering round 
the nearer fire with our awful burden, we arrived with 
it behind the post—it seemed to take an age. Here 
by the mercy of Providence the smoky reek from the 
fire propelled by a slight breath of air, combined with 
the hanging fog to make us almost invisible. On the 
farther side of the post stood Sabeela, bound, her 
head drooping forward as though she were fainting. 
Hans swore that it was Sabeela because he knew her 
“by her smell,” which was just like him, but I could 
not be sure, being less gifted in that way. However, 
I risked it and spoke to her, though doubtfully, for 
I did not like the look of her. To tell the truth, I 
rather feared lest she should have acted on her 
threat that as a last resource she would take the 
poison which she said she carried hidden in her 
hair. 

“Sabeela, do not start or cry out. Sabeela, it is 
we, the Lord Watcher-by-Night and he who is named 
Light-in-Darkness, come to save you,” I said, and 
waited anxiously, wondering whether I should ever 
hear an answer. 


200 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Presently I gave a sigh of relief, for she moved her 
head slightly and murmured, 

“I dream! I dream!” 

“Nay,” I answered, “you do not dream, or if you 
do, cease from dreaming, lest we should all sleep for 
ever. 

Then I crept round the post and bade her tell me 
where was the knot by which the rope about her was 
fastened. She nodded downwards with her head; 
with her hands she could not point, because they were 
tied, and muttered in a shaken voice, 

“At my feet, Lord.” 

I knelt down and found the knot, since if I cut the 
rope we should have nothing with which to tie the 
body to the post. Fortunately, it was not drawn 
tight because this was thought unnecessary, as no Holy 
Bride had ever been known to attempt to escape. 
Therefore, although my hands were cold, I was able 
to loose it without much difficulty. A minute later 
Sabeela was free and I had cut the lashings which 
bound her arms. Next came a more difficult mat¬ 
ter, that of setting the dead woman in her place, 
for, being dead, all her weight came upon the rope. 
However, Hans and I managed it somehow, having 
first thrown Sabeela’s cloak and veil over her icy 
form and face. 

“Hope Heu-Heu will think her nice!” whispered 
Hans as we cast an anxious look at our handiwork. 

Then, all being done, we retreated as we had come, 
bending low to keep our bodies in the layer of the mist 
which now was thinning and hung only about three 
feet above the ground like an autumn fog on an Eng¬ 
lish marsh. We reached our hole, Hans bundling 
Sabeela over its edge unceremoniously, so that she 
fell on to the back of her sister, Dramana, who 
crouched in it terrified. Never, I think, did two 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 


201 


tragically separated relations have a stranger meet¬ 
ing. I was the last of our party, and as I was sliding 
into the hollow I took a good look round. 

This is what I saw. Out of the mouth of the cave 
emerged two priests. They ran swiftly up the gentle 
slope of rock till they reached the two columns of 
burning natural gas or petroleum or whatever it was, 
one of them halting by each column. Here they 
wheeled round and through the holes in their masks 
or veils stared at the victim bound to the post. Ap¬ 
parently what they saw satisfied them, for after one 
glance they wheeled about and ran back to the cave 
as swiftly as they had come, but in a methodical 
manner which showed no surprise or emotion. 

“What does this mean, Dramana?” I exclaimed. 
“You told me that it was against the law for any one 
to look upon the Holy Bride until the moment of 
sunrise.” 

“I don’t know, Lord,” she answered. “Certainly 
it is against the law. I suppose that the diviners must 
have felt that something was wrong and sent out 
messengers to report. As I have told you, the priests 
of Heu-Heu are masters of magic, Lord.” 

“Then they are bad masters, for they have found 
out nothing,” I remarked indifferently. 

; But in my heart I was more thankful than words 
can tell that I had persisted in the idea of lashing the 
dead woman to the post in place of Sabeela. Whilst 
we were dragging her from the shed, and again when 
we were lifting her out of the hole on to the rock, 
Hans had suggested that this was unnecessary, since 
Dramana vowed that no man ever looked upon the 
Holy Bride between her arrival upon the rock and 
the moment of sunrise, and that all we needed to do 
was to loose Sabeela. 

Fortunately some providence warned me against 


202 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

giving way. Had I done so all would have been dis¬ 
covered and humanly speaking we must have per¬ 
ished. Probably this would have happened even had 
I not remembered to run back and pick up the pieces 
of cord that I had cut from Sabeela’s wrists and left 
lying on the rock, since the messengers might have 
seen them and guessed a trick. As it was, so far we 
were safe. 

“Now, Hans,” I said, “the time has come for you 
to swim to the canoe, which you must do quickly, for 
the mist seems to be melting beneath the moon and 
otherwise you may be seen.” 

“No, Baas, I shall not be seen, for I shall put that 
bundle from the Tree of Dreams on my head, which 
will make me look like floating weeds, Baas. But 
would not the Baas like, perhaps, to go himself? He 
swims better than I do and does not mind cold so 
much; also he is clever and the Walloo fools in the 
boat will listen to him more than they will to me; 
and if it comes to shooting, he is a better shot. I 
think, too, that I can look after the Lady Sabeela and 
the other lady and know how to fire a slow match as 
well as he can.” 

“No,” I answered, “it is too late to change our 
plans, though I wish I were going to get into that 
boat instead of you, for I should feel happier there.” 

“Very good, Baas. The Baas knows best,” he 
replied resignedly. Then, quite indifferent to conven¬ 
tions, Hans stripped himself, placing his dirty clothes 
inside the mat in which was wrapped the bundle of 
twigs from the Tree of Illusions, because, as he said, it 
would be nice to have dry things to put on when he 
reached the boat, or the next world, he did not know 
which. 

These preparations made, having fastened the 
bundle on to his head by the help of the bonds which 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 203 

we had cut off Sabeela’s hands, that I tied for him 
beneath his armpits, he started, shivering, a hideous, 
shrivelled, yellow object. First, however, he kissed 
my hand and asked me whether I had any message 
for my Reverend Father in the Place of Fires, where, 
he remarked, it would be, at any rate, warmer than 
it was here. Also he declared that he thought that 
the Lady Sabeela was not worth all the trouble we 
were taking about her, especially as she was going 
to marry someone else. Lastly he said with emphasis 
that if ever we got out of this country, he intended 
to get drunk for two whole days at the first town we 
came to where gin could be bought—a promise, 
I remember, that he kept very faithfully. Then he 
sneaked down the side of the rock and holding his 
revolver and little buckskin cartridge case above his 
head, glided into the water as silently as does an 
otter. 

By now, as I have said, the mist was vanishing 
rapidly, perhaps before a draught of air which drew 
out of the east, as I have noticed it often does in those 
parts of Africa between midnight and sunrise, even 
on still nights. On the face of the water it still hung, 
however, so that through it I could only discover 
the faint outline of the canoe about a hundred yards 
away. 

Presently, with a beating heart, I observed that 
something was happening there, since the canoe 
seemed to turn round and I thought that I heard 
astonished voices speaking in it, and saw people 
standing up. Then there was a splash and once 
more all became still and silent. Evidently Hans 
reached the boat safely, though whether he had en¬ 
tered it I could not tell. I could only wonder and 
hope. 

As we could do no good by remaining in our present 


204 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

most dangerous position, I set out to return to the 
sluice shed where other matters pressed, carrying all 
our gear as before, but, thank goodness! without the 
encumbrance of the corpse. Sabeela seemed to be 
still half dazed, so at present I did not try to question 
her. Dramana took her left arm and I Her right and, 
supporting her thus, we ran, doubled up, back to the 
shed and entered it in safety. Leaving the two 
women here, I went out on to the little pier and 
crouched at the top of the fishermen’s steps, watching 
and waiting for the coming of Hans with the canoe 
to take us off, for, as you may remember, the ar¬ 
rangement was that I was not to fire the slow matches 
until it had arrived. 

No canoe appeared. During all the long hours— 
they seemed an eternity—before the breaking of the 
dawn did I wait and watch, returning now and again 
to the shed to make sure that Dramana and Sabeela 
were safe. On one of these visits I learned that both 
her father, the Walloo, and Issicore were in the canoe, 
which made its non-arrival not to be explained, that 
is, if Hans had reached it safely. But if he had not, 
or perhaps had been killed or met with some other 
accident in attempting to board it, then the explana¬ 
tion was easy enough, as her crew would not know 
our plight or that we were waiting to be rescued. 
Lastly they might have refused to make the attempt 
—for religious reasons. 

The problem was agonizing. Before long there 
would be light and without doubt we should be dis¬ 
covered and killed, perhaps by torture. On the 
other hand, if I fired the powder the noise of the 
explosion would probably be heard, in which case 
also we should be discovered. Yet there was an 
argument for doing this, since then, if things went 
well, the water would rush in and give those priests 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 


205 

something to think about that would take their 
minds off hunting for and capturing us. 

I looked about me. The canoe was invisible in the 
mist. It might be there or it might be gone, only if 
it had gone and Hans were still alive, I was certain 
that, as arranged, to advise me he would have fired 
his pistol, which, to keep the cartridges dry, he had 
carried above his head in his left hand. Indeed, I 
thought it probable that, rather than desert me thus, 
he would have swum back to the island, so that we 
might see the business through together. The longer 
I pondered all these and other possibilities the more 
confused I grew and the more despairing. Evi¬ 
dently something had happened, but what—what?” 

The water continued to rise; now all the steps were 
covered and it was within an inch or two of the surface 
of the pier on which I must crouch. It was a mighty 
flood that looked as though presently it would begin 
to flow over the top of the sea wall, in which case the 
sluice shed would undoubtedly be inundated and 
made uninhabitable. 

As I think I told you, a few yards to our right, 
rising above the top of the sea wall to a height of 
seven or eight feet, was a great rock that had the 
appearance of a boulder ejected at some time from the 
crater of the volcano, which rock would be easy to 
climb and was large enough to accommodate the 
three of us. Moreover, no flood could reach its top, 
since to do so it must cover the land beyond to a 
depth of many feet. Considering it and everything 
else, suddenly I came to a conclusion, so suddenly 
indeed and so fixedly that I felt as though it were 
inspired by some outside influence. 

I would bring the women out and make them lie 
down upon the top of that boulder, trusting to 
Dramana’s dark cloak to hide them from observation 


2o6 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

even in that brilliant moonlight. Then I would re¬ 
turn to the shed and set light to the match, and, after 
I had done this, join them upon the rock whence we 
could see all that happened, and watch for the canoe, 
though of this I had begun to despair. 

Abandoning all doubts and hesitations, I set to 
work to carry out this scheme with cold yet frantic 
energy. I fetched the two sisters, who, imagining 
that relief was in sight, came readily enough, made 
them clamber up the rock and lie down there on their 
faces, throwing Dramana’s large dark cloak over both 
of them and our belongings. Then I went back to 
the shed, struck a light, and applied it to the ends of 
the slow matches, that began to smoulder well and 
clearly. Rushing from the shed, I locked the heavy 
door and sped back to the rock, which I climbed. 

Five minutes passed, and just as I was beginning to 
think that the matches had failed in some way, I 
heard a heavy thud. It was not very loud; indeed, at 
a distance of even fifty yards I doubted whether any 
one would have noticed it unless his attention were 
on the strain. That shed was well built and roofed 
and smothered sounds. Also this one had nothing of 
the crack of a rifle about it, but rather resembled that 
which is caused by something heavy falling to the 
ground. 

After this for a while nothing particular happened. 
Presently, however, looking down from my rock I saw 
that the water in the sluice, which, being retained by 
the stone door in the shed, hitherto had been still, 
was now running like a mill race, and with a thrill of 
triumph learned that I had succeeded. 

The sluice was down and the flood was rushing over it! 

Watching intently, a minute or so later I observed 
a stone fall from the coping of the channel, for it was 
full to the brim, then another, and another, till pres- 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 207 

ently the whole work seemed to melt away. Where it 
had been was now a great and ever-growing gap in the 
sea wall through which the swollen waters of the lake 
poured ceaselessly and increasingly. Next instant 
the shed vanished like a card house, its foundations 
being washed out, and I perceived that over its site, 
and beyond it, a veritable river, on the face of which 
floated portions of its roof, was fast inundating the 
low-lying lands behind that had been protected by 
the wall. 

I looked at the east; it was lightening, for now the 
blackness of the sky where it seemed to meet the 
great lake, had turned to grey. The dawn was at 
hand. 

With a steady roar, through the gap in the sea 
wall which grew wider every moment, the waters 
rushed in, remorseless, inexhaustible; the aspect of 
them was terrifying. Now our rock was a little island 
surrounded by a sea, and now in the east appeared 
the first ray from the unrisen sun stabbing the rain- 
washed sky like a giant spear. It was a wondrous 
spectacle and, thinking that probably it was the last 
I should ever witness upon earth, I observed it with 
great interest. . 

By this time the women at my side were sobbing 
with terror, believing that they were going to be 
drowned. As I was of the same opinion, for I felt our 
rock trembling beneath us as though it were about to 
turn over or, washed from its foundations, to sink into 
some bottomless gulf, and could do nothing to help 
them, I pretended to take no notice of their terror, 
but only stared towards the east. 

It was just then that, emerging out of the mist on 
the face of the waters within a few yards of us, I 
saw the canoe. Hear the sound of the paddles I 


£08 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

could not, because of the roar of the rushing water. 
In it at the stern, with his pistol held to the head of 
the steersman, stood Hans. 

I rose up, and he saw me. Then I made signs to 
him which way he should come, keeping the canoe 
straight over the crest of the broken wall where the 
water was shallow. It was a dangerous business, for 
every moment I thought it would overset or be 
sucked into the torrent beyond, where the sluice 
channel had been; but those Walloos were clever with 
their paddles, and Hans’s pistol gave them much 
encouragement. 

Now the prow of the canoe grated against the rock, 
and Hans, who had scrambled forward, threw me a 
rope. I held it with one hand and with the other 
thrust down the shrinking women. He seized them 
and bundled them into the canoe like sacks of corn. 
Next I threw in our gear and then sprang wildly my¬ 
self, for I felt our stone turning. I half fell into the 
water, but Hans and someone else gripped me and I 
was dragged in over the gunwale. Another instant 
and the rock had vanished beneath the yellow, 
yeasty flood! 

The canoe oscillated and began to spin round; 
happily it was large and strong, with at least a score of 
rowers, being hollowed from a single, huge tree. Hans 
shrieked directions and the paddlers paddled as never 
they had done before. For quite a minute our fate 
hung doubtful, for the torrent was sucking at us and 
we did not seem to gain an inch. At last, however, 
we moved forward a little, towards the Rock of 
Sacrifice this time, and within sixty seconds were safe 
and out of the reach of the landward rush of the water. 

“Why did you not come before, Hans?” I asked. 

“Oh, Baas, because these fools would not move 
until they saw the first light, and when the Walloo 


THE TERRIBLE NIGHT 


209 


and Issicore wanted to, told them that they would 
kill them. They said it was against their law, Baas.” 

“Curse them all for ten generations!” I exclaimed, 
then was silent, for what was the use of arguing with 
such a superstition-ridden set? 

Superstition is still king of most of the world, 
though often it calls itself Religion. These Walloos 
thought themselves very religious indeed. 

Thus ended that terrible night. 


CHAPTER XIV 
The End of Heu-Heu 

Opposite to the Rock of Offering the canoe came to a 
standstill quite close to the edge of the rock. I 
inquired why, and the old Walloo, who sat in the 
middle of the boat draped in wondrous and imperial 
garments and a headdress, that, having worked itself 
to one side in the course of our struggles, made him 
look as though he were drunk, answered feebly: 

Because it is our law, Lord. Our law bids us wait 
till the sun appears and the glory of Heu-Heu comes 
forth to take the Holy Bride.” 

“Well,” I answered, “as the Holy Bride is sitting 
in this boat with her head upon my knee” (this was 
true, because Sabeela had insisted upon sticking to me 
as the only person upon whom she could rely, and so, 
for the matter of that, had Dramana, for her head was 
on my other knee), I should recommend the glory of 
Heu-Heu, whatever that may be, not to come here to 
look for her. Unless, indeed, it wants a hole as big 
as my fist blown through it,” I added with emphasis, 
tapping my double-barrelled Express which was by 
my side, safe in its waterproof case. 

“Yet we must wait, Lord,” answered the Walloo 
humbly, “for I see that there is still a Holy Bride 
tied to the post, and until she is loosed our law, says 
that we may not go away.” 

“Yes,” I exclaimed, “the holiest of all brides, for 
she is stone dead and all the dead are holy. Well, 
210 


211 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 

wait if you like, for I want to see what happens, and I 
think they can't get at us here." 

So we hung upon our oars, or rather paddles, and 
waited, till presently the rim of the red sun appeared 
and revealed the strangest of scenes. The water of 
the lake, swollen by weeks of continuous rain and the 
recent tempest, flowing in with a steady rush that 
somehow reminded me of the ordered advance of an 
infinite army, through the great gap in the lake wall 
that was broadening minute by minute beneath its 
devouring bite—is there anything so mighty as water 
in the world, I wonder—had now flooded most of 
the cultivated land to a depth of several feet. 

As yet, however, it had not reached the houses built 
against the mountain, in one of which we had been 
lodged. Nor had it overflowed the great Rock of 
Offering, which, you will remember, stood about the 
height of a man above the level of the plain, being in 
fact a large slab of consolidated lava that once had 
flowed from the crater into the lake in a glacier-like 
stream of limited breadth. It is true that the circum¬ 
stance that the rock sloped downwards to the cave 
mouth seemed to contradict that theory, but this I 
attribute to some subsequent subsidence at its base, 
such as often happens in volcanic areas where hidden 
forces are at work beneath the surface of the earth. 

Well, I repeat, the rock was not yet flooded, and so 
it came about that at the proper moment, as had 
happened on this day, perhaps for hundreds of years, 
Heu-Heu emerged from the cave “to claim his Holy 
Bride." 

“How could he do that?" asked Good triumph¬ 
antly, thinking, I suppose, that he had caught Allan 
tripping. “You said that Heu-Heu was a statue, so 
how could he come out of the cave?” 


212 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“Does not it occur to you, Good,” asked Allan, 
“that a statue is sometimes carried? However, in 
this case it was not so, for Heu-Heu himself walked 
out of that cave, followed by a number of women, 
with some of the Hairy Folk behind them, and looking 
at him as he stalked along, hideous and gigantic, I 
understood two things. The first of these was, how it 
came about that Sabeela had vowed to me that many 
had seen Heu-Heu with their eyes, as Issicore also 
declared he had done himself, ‘walking stiffly.’ The 
second, why it was a law that the canoe which brought 
the Holy Bride should wait until she was removed 
at dawn; namely in order that those in it might be¬ 
hold Heu-Heu and go back to their land to testify to 
his bodily existence, even if they were not allowed to 
give details as to his appearance, because to speak of 
this would, they believed, bring a ‘curse’ upon them.” 

“But there wasn’t a Heu-Heu,” objected Good 
again. 

“Good,” said Allan, “really you are what Hans 
called me—quite clever. With extraordinary acu¬ 
men you have arrived at the truth. There wasn’t a 
Heu-Heu. But, Good, if you live long enough,” he 
went on with a gentle sarcasm which showed that he 
was annoyed, “yes, if you live long enough, you will 
learn that this world is full of deceptions, and that 
the Tree of Illusions does not, or rather did not, grow 
only in Heu-Heu’s Garden. As you say, no Heu-Heu 
existed, but there- did exist an excellent copy of him 
made up with a skill worthy of a high-class pantomime 
artist; so excellent indeed that from fifty yards or so 
away, it was impossible to tell the difference between 
it and the great original as depicted in the cave.” 

There in all his hairy, grinning horror, “walking 
stiffly,” marched Heu-Heu, eleven or twelve feet high. 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 213 

Or to come to the facts, there marched Dacha on 
stilts, artistically draped in dyed skins and wearing 
on the top of or over his head a wickerwork and can¬ 
vas or cloth mask beautifully painted to resemble the 
features of his amiable god. 

The pious crew of our boat saw him and bowed 
their classic heads in reverence to the divinity. Even 
Issicore bowed, a performance that I observed caused 
Dramana, yes, and the loving Sabeela herself, to 
favour him with glances of indignation, not unmixed 
with contempt. At least this was certainly the case 
with Dramana, who had lived behind the scenes, but 
Sabeela may have been moved by other reflections. 
Perhaps she still believed that there was a Heu-Heu, 
and that Issicore would have done better to show 
himself less devoted to these religious observances 
and less willing to surrender her to the god’s divine 
attentions. You may all have noticed that how¬ 
ever piously disposed, there is a point at which 
the majority of women become very practical in¬ 
deed. 

Meanwhile Heu-Heu stalked forward with a gait 
that might very literally be called stilted, and the 
bevy of white-robed ladies followed after him ap¬ 
parently singing a bridal song, while behind these, 
“ moping and mowing,” came their hairy attendants. 
By the aid of my glasses, however, I could see that 
these ladies, at any rate, were not enjoying the en¬ 
tertainment, whatever may have been the case with 
Dacha inside his paste boards. They stared at the 
rising water and one of them turned to run but was 
dragged back into place by her companions, for prob¬ 
ably on this solemn occasion flight was a capital 
oflFence. So on they came till they reached the post 
to which we had tied the dead woman, whereon 
according to custom, the bridesmaids skipped up to 


214 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

release her, while the Hairy Folk ranged themselves 
behind. . Jj 

Next moment I saw the first of these bridesmaids 
suddenly stand still and stare; then she emitted a 
yell so terrific that it echoed all over the lake like the 
blast of a siren. The others stared also and in their 
turn began to yell. Then Heu-Heu himself ambled 
round and apparently had a look, a good look, for by 
now someone had torn away the veil which I had 
thrown over the corpse’s head. He did not look long, 
for next moment he was legging, or rather stilting, 
back to the cave as fast as he could go. 

This was too much for me. By my side was my 
double-barrelled Express rifle loaded with expanding 
bullets. I drew it from its case, lifted it, and got a 
bead on to Heu-Heu just above where I guessed the 
head of the man within would be, for I did not want to 
kill the brute but only to frighten him. By now the 
light was good and so was my aim, for a moment 
later the expanding bullet hit in the appointed spot 
and cleared away all that top hamper of wicker and 
baboon skins, or whatever it may have been. Never 
before was there such a sudden disrobement of an 
ecclesiastical dignitary draped in all his trappings. 

Everything seemed to come oflF at once, as did 
Dacha from the stilts, for he went a most imperial 
crowner that must have flattened his hooked nose 
upon that lava rock. There he lay a moment, then, 
leaving his stilts behind him, he rose and fled after the 
screaming women and their ape-like attendants back 
into the cave. 

“Now,” I remarked oracularly to the old Walloo 
and the others who were terrified at the report of the 
rifle, “now, my friends, you see what your god is 
made of.” 

The Walloo attempted no reply, apparently he was 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 215 

too astonished—disillusionment is often painful, you 
know—but one of his company who seemed to be a 
kind of official timekeeper, said that the sun being 
up and the Holy Bridal being accomplished, though 
strangely, it was lawful for them to return home. 

“No, you don’t,” I answered. “I have waited 
here a long time for you and now you shall wait a 
little while for me, as I want to see what happens.” 

The timekeeper, however, a man of routine, if one 
devoid of curiosity, dipped his paddle into the water 
as a signal to the other rowers to do likewise, whereon 
Hans hit him hard over the fingers with the butt of 
his revolver, and then held its barrel to his head. 

This argument convinced him that obedience was 
best, and he drew in his paddle, as did the others, 
making polite apologies to Hans. 

So we remained where we were and watched. 

There was lots to see, for by now the water was 
beginning to run over the rock. It reached the eternal 
fires with the result that they ceased to be eternal, 
for they went out in clouds of smoke and steam. 
Three minutes later it was pouring in a cataract down 
the slope into the mouth of the cave. Before I could 
count a hundred, people began to come out of that 
cave in the greatest of hurries, as wasps do if you stir 
up their nest with a stick. Among them I recog¬ 
nized Dacha, who had a very good idea of looking 
after himself. 

He and the first of those who followed, wading 
through the water, got clear and began to scramble 
up the mountainside behind. But the rest were not 
so fortunate, for by now the stream was several feet 
deep and they could not fight it. For a moment 
they appeared struggling amid the foam and bubbles. 
Then they were swept back into the mouth of the 
cave and gathered to the breast of Heu-Heu for the 


2l6 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

last time. Next, as though at a signal, all the houses, 
including that in which we had been lodged, crumbled 
away together. They just collapsed and vanished. 

Everything seemed finished and I wondered 
whether I would put a bullet into Dacha, who now 
was standing on a ridge of rock and wringing his 
hands as he watched the destruction of his temple, 
his god, his town, his women, and his servants. 
Concluding that I would not, for something seemed 
to tell me to leave this wicked rascal to destiny, I was 
about to give the order to paddle away when Hans 
called to me to look at the mountain top. 

I did so, and observed that from it was rushing a 
great cloud of steam, such as comes from a railway 
engine when it is standing still with too much heat in 
its boiler, but multiplied a millionfold. Moreover, as 
the engine screams in such circumstances, so did the 
mountain scream, or rather roar, emitting a volume 
of sound that was awful to hear. 

“What’s up now, Hans?” I shouted. 

“ Don’t know, Baas. Think that water and fire are 
having a talk together inside that mountain, Baas, 
and saying they hate each other, just like badly mar¬ 
ried man and woman who quarrel in a small hut, 
Baas, and can’t get out. Hiss, spit, go woman; pop, 
bang, go man-” Here he paused from his non¬ 

sense, staring at the mountain top with all his eyes, 
then repeated in a slow voice, “Yes, pop, bang, go 
man! Just look at him, Baas!” 

At this moment, with an amazing noise like to that 
of a magnified thunderclap, the volcano seemed to 
split in two and the crest of it to fly off into space. 

“Baas,” said Hans, “I am called Lord-of-the-Fire, 
am I not? Well, I am not Lord of that fire and I think 
that the farther off we get from it, the safer we shall 
be. Allemagter! Look there,” and he pointed to a 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 


217 


huge mass of flaming lava which appeared to descend 
from the clouds and plunge into the lake about a 
couple of hundred yards away, sending up a fountain 
of steam and foam, like a torpedo when it bursts. 

“Paddle for your lives!” I shouted to the Walloos, 
who began to get the canoe about in a very great 
hurry. 

As she came round—it seemed to take an age—I 
saw a strange and in a way a terrible sight. Dacha 
had left his ledge and was running down into the lake, 
followed by a stream of molten lava, dancing while 
he ran, as though with pain, probably because the 
steam had scorched him. He plunged into the water, 
and just then a great wave formed, driven out¬ 
wards doubtless by some subterranean explosion. 
It rushed towards us, and on its very crest was 
Dacha. 

“I think that priest wants us to give him a row. 
Baas,” said Hans. “ He has had enough of his happy 
island home, and wishes to live on the mainland.” 

“Does he?” I replied. “Well, there is no room 
in the canoe,” and I drew my pistol. 

The wave bore Dacha quite close to us. He reared 
himself in the water, or more probably was lifted up 
by the pressure underneath, so that almost he ap¬ 
peared to be standing on the crest of the wave. He 
saw us, he shouted curses upon us and shook his fists, 
apparently at Sabeela and Issicore. It was a horrible 
sight. 

Hans, however, was not affected, for by way of 
reply he pointed first to me, then to Sabeela and lastly 
to himself, after which, such was his unconquerable 
vulgarity, he put his thumb to his nose and as school¬ 
boys say “cocked a snook” at the struggling high 
priest. , _ - v , 

The wave became a hollow and Dacha disappeared 


218 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“to look for Heu-Heu,” as Hans remarked. That was 
the end of this cruel but able man. 

“I am glad,” said Hans after reflection, “that the 
Predikant Dacha should have learned who sent him 
down to Heu-Heu before he went there, which he 
knew well enough or he would not have been so cross, 
Baas. Has it occurred to the Baas what clever peo¬ 
ple we are, all of whose plans have succeeded so 
nicely? At one time I thought that things were 
going wrong. It was after I scrambled into this canoe 
and those fools would not move to fetch you and the 
women, because they said it was against their law. 
While I was putting on my clothes, which got here 
quite dry because I was so careful, Baas, for I had 
asked them to paddle to fetch you while I was still 
naked and been told that they would not, I wondered 
whether I should try to make them do so by shooting 
one of them. Only I thought that I had better wait 
a while, Baas, and see what happened, because if I 
had shot one, the others might have become more 
stupid and obstinate than before, and perhaps have 
paddled away after they had killed me. So I waited, 
which the Baas will admit was the best thing to 
do, and everything came right in the end, having 
doubtless been arranged by your Reverend Father, 
watching us in the sky.” 

“Yes, Hans, but if you had made up your mind 
otherwise, whom would you have shot?” I asked. 
“The Walloo?” 

“No, Baas, because he is old and stupid as a dead 
owl. I should have shot Issicore because he tires me 
so much and I should like to save the Lady Sabeela 
from being made weary for many years. What is the 
good of a man, Baas, who, when he thinks his girl is 
being given over to a devil, sits in a boat and groans 
and says that ancient laws must not be broken lest a 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 219 

curse should follow? He did that, Baas, when I asked 
him to order the men to row to the steps.” 

“I don’t know, Hans. It is a matter for them to 
settle between them, isn’t it?” 

“ Yes, Baas, and when the lady has got her mind 
again and at last that hour comes, as it always does 
when there is something to pay, Baas, I shall be sorry 
for Issicore, for I don’t think he will look so pretty 
when she has done with him. No, I think that when 
he says ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ she will answer, ‘Smack! 
Smack!’ on both sides of his head, Baas. Look, she 
has turned her back on him already. Well, Baas, it 
doesn’t matter to me, or to you either, who have the 
Lady Dramana there to deal with. She isn’t turning 
her back, Baas, she is eating you up with her eyes and 
saying in her heart that at last she has found a Heu- 
Heu worth something, even though he be small and 
withered and ugly, with hair that sticks up. It is 
what is in a man that matters, Baas, not what he 
looks like outside, as women often used to say to me 
when I was young, Baas.” 

Here with an exclamation that I need not repeat, 
for none of us really like to have our personal ap¬ 
pearance reflected upon by a candid friend, however 
faithful, I lifted the butt of my rifle, purposing 
to drop it gently on Hans’s toes. At that point, 
however, my attention was diverted from this rub¬ 
bish, which was Hans’s way of showing his joy at our 
escape, by another blazing boulder which fell quite 
near to the canoe, and immediately afterwards by 
the terrific spectacle of the final dissolution of the 
volcano. 

I don’t know exactly what happened, but sheets of 
wavering flame and clouds of steam ascended high 
into the heavens. These were accompanied by 
earth-shaking rumblings and awful explosions that 


220 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

resounded like the loudest thunder, each of them 
followed by the ejection of showers of blazing stones 
and the rushing out of torrents of molten lava which 
ran into the lake, making it hiss and boil. After 
this came tidal waves that caused our canoe to rock 
perilously, dense clouds of ashes and a kind of hot 
rain which darkened the air so much that for a while 
we could see nothing, no, not for a yard before our 
noses. Altogether, it was a most terrifying exhibition 
of the forces of nature which, by some connection 
of ideas, made me think of the Day of Judgment. 

“Heu-Heu avenges himself upon us!” wailed the 
old Walloo, “because we have robbed him of his 
Holy Bride.” 

Here his speech came to an end, for a good reason, 
since a large hot stone fell upon his head, and, as Hans 
who was next to him explained through the fog, 
“squashed him like a beetle.” 

When from the outcry of his followers Sabeela 
realized that her father was dead, for he never moved 
or spoke again, she seemed to wake up in good earn¬ 
est, just as though she felt that the mantle of author¬ 
ity had fallen upon her. 

“Throw that hot coal out of the boat,” she said, 
“lest it burn through the bottom and we sink.” 

With the help of a paddle Issicore obeyed her, and, 
the body of the Walloo having been covered up with a 
cloak, we rowed on desperately. By good fortune 
about this time a strong wind began to blow from the 
shore towards the island which kept back or drove 
away the hot rain and pumice dust, so that we could 
once more see about us. Now our only danger was 
from the rocks, such as that which had killed the 
Walloo, that fell into the water all around, sending 
up spouts of foam. It was just as though we were 
under heavy bombardment, but happily no more of 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 


221 


them hit the canoe, and as we got farther off the island 
the risk became less. As we found afterwards, how¬ 
ever, some of them were thrown as far as the main¬ 
land. 

Still, there was one more peril to be passed, for 
suddenly we ran into a whole fleet of rude canoes, or 
rather bundles of reeds and brushwood, or sometimes 
logs sharpened at both ends by fire, on each of which 
one of the Hairy savages sat astride directing it with a 
double-bladed paddle. 

I presume that these people must have been a con¬ 
tingent of the aboriginal Wood-folk who had started 
for the island in obedience to the summons of Heu- 
Heu, where, as I have told, a great number of them 
were already gathered preparatory to attacking the 
town of Walloo. Or they may have been escaping 
from the island; really I do not know. One thing 
was clear; however low they may have been in the 
scale of humanity, they were sharp enough to connect 
us with the awful, natural catastrophe that was hap¬ 
pening, for squeaking and jabbering like so many 
great apes, they pointed to that vision of hell, the 
flaming volcano now sinking to dissolution, and to us. 

Then with their horrible yells of Heu-Heu! Heu- 
Heu! they set to work to attack us. 

There was only one thing to be done—open fire on 
them, which Hans and I did with effect, and mean¬ 
while try to escape by our superior speed. I am bound 
to say that those hideous and miserable creatures 
showed the greatest courage, for undeterred by the 
sight of the death of their companions whom our 
bullets struck, they tried to close upon us with the 
object, no doubt, of oversetting the canoe and drown¬ 
ing us all. 

Hans and I fired as rapidly as possible, but we 
could deal with only a tithe of them, so that speed and 


222 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

manoeuvring were our principal hope. Sabeela stood 
up in the boat and cried directions to the paddlers, 
while Hans and I shot, first with rifles and then with 
our revolvers. 

Still, one huge gorilla-like fellow, whose hair grew 
down to his beetling eyebrows, got hold of the gun¬ 
wale and began to pull the canoe over. We could not 
shoot him because both rifles and revolvers were 
empty; nor did our blows make him loose his grip. 
The canoe rocked from side to side increasingly, and 
began to take in water. 

Just as I feared that the end had come, for more 
hairy men were almost on to us, Sabeela saved the 
situation in a bold and desperate fashion. By her side 
lay the broad spear of that priest whom Hans had 
killed in the sluice shed, knocking him backwards 
into the water pit. She seized it and with amazing 
strength stabbed the great beast-like creature who 
had hold of the canoe and was putting all his weight 
on it to force the gunwale under water. He let go 
and sank. By skilful steering we avoided the others, 
and in three minutes were clear of them, since they 
could not keep pace with us on their rude craft. 

“Plenty to do to-night, Baas!” soliloquized Hans, 
wiping his brow. “Perhaps if a crocodile does not 
swallow us between here and the shore, or these fools 
do not sacrifice us to the ghost of Heu-Heu, or we are 
not killed by lightning, the Baas will let me drink 
some of that native beer when we get back to the 
town. All this fire about has made me very thirsty.” 

Well, we arrived there at last—a generation seemed 
to have passed since I left that quay, which we found 
crowded with the entire terror-stricken population of 
the place. They received the body of the Walloo in 
respectful silence, but it seemed to me without any 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 223 

particular grief. Indeed, these people appeared to 
have outworn the acuter human emotions. All such 
extremes, I suppose, had been smoothed away from 
their characters by time, and by the degrading action 
of the vile fetishism under which they lived. In 
short, they had become mere handsome, human 
automata who walked about with their ears cocked 
listening for the voice of the god and catching it in 
every natural sound. To tell the truth, however 
interesting may have been their origin, in their de¬ 
cadence they filled me with contempt. 

The reappearance of Sabeela astonished them very 
much but seemed to cause no delight. 

“She is the god’s wife,” I heard one of them say. 
“It is because she has run away from the god that all 
these misfortunes have happened.” She heard it also 
and rounded on them with spirit, having by now 
quite recovered her nerve, or so it seemed, which is 
more than could be said of Issicore, who, although he 
should have been wild with joy, remained depressed 
and almost silent. _ , 

“What misfortunes?” she asked. My father is 
dead, it is true, killed by a hot stone that fell upon 
him and I weep for him. Still, he was a very old man 
who must soon have passed away. For the rest, is it 
a misfortune that through the courage and power of 
these strangers I, his daughter and heiress, have been 
freed from the clutches of Dacha? I tell you that 
Dacha was the god; Heu-Heu whom you worship 
was but a painted idol. If you do not believe it, ask 
the White Lord here, and ask my sister Dramana 
whom you seem to have forgotten, who in past years 
was given to him as a Holy Bride. Is it a misfortune 
that Dacha and his priests have been destroyed, and 
with him the most of the savage hairy Wood-folk, 
our enemies? Is it a misfortune that the hateful. 


224 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

smoking mountain should have melted away in fire, 
as it is doing now, and with it the cave of mysteries, 
out of which came so many oracles of terror, thus 
fulfilling the prophecy that we should be delivered 
from our burdens by a white lord from the south ? 

At these vigorous words the frightened crowd grew 
silent and hung their heads. Sabeela looked about 
her for a little while, then went on: 

“Issicore, my betrothed, come forward and tell the 
people you rejoice that these things have happened. 
To save me from Heu-Heu, at my prayer you trav¬ 
elled far to ask succour of the great Magician of the 
South. He has sent the succour and I have been 
saved. Yet you helped to row the boat which took 
me to the sacrifice. For that I do not blame you, 
because you must do so, being of the rank you are, or 
be cursed under the ancient law. Now I have been 
saved, though not by you, who, thinking the White 
Lord dead upon the Holy Isle, consented to my sur¬ 
render to the god, and the law is at an end with the 
destruction of Heu-Heu and his priests, slain by the 
wisdom and might of that White Lord and his com¬ 
panion. Tell them, therefore, how greatly you 
rejoice that you have not journeyed in vain, and they 
Hid not listen in vain to your petition for help; that 
I stand before them here also free and undefiled, and 
that henceforth the land is rid of the curse of Heu- 
Heu. Yes, tell the people these things and give 
thanks to the noble-hearted strangers who brought 
them to pass and saved me with Dramana my 
sister.” 

Now, tired out as I was, I watched Issicore not 
without excitement, for I was curious to hear what 
he had to say. Well, after a pause, he came forward 
and answered in a hesitating voice, 

“I do rejoice, Beloved, that you have returned 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 


225 


safe, though I hoped when I led the White Lord from 
the South, that he would have saved you in some 
fashion other than by working sacrilege and killing 
the priests of the god with fire and water, men who 
from the beginning have been known to be divine. 
You, the Lady Sabeela, declare that Heu-Heu is dead, 
but how know we that he is dead? He is a spirit, 
and can a spirit die? Was it a dead god who threw 
the stone that killed the Walloo, and will he not 
perhaps throw other stones that will kill us, and 
especially you, Lady, who have stood upon the Rock 
of Offerings, wearing the robe of the Holy Bride ?” 

“Baas,” inquired Hans reflectively, in the silence 
which followed these timorous queries, “do you think 
that Issicore is really a man, or is he in truth but 
made of wood and painted to look like one, as Dacha 
was painted to look like Heu-Heu?” 

“I thought that he was a man yonder in the Black 
Kloof, Hans,” I answered, “but then he was a long 
way off Heu-Heu. Now I am not so sure. But per¬ 
haps he is only very frightened and will come to 
himself by and by.” 

Meanwhile Sabeela was looking her extremely 
handsome lover up and down; up and down she 
looked him, and never a word did she say—at least, 
to him. Presently, however, she spoke to the crowd 
in a commanding voice, thus: 

“Take notice that my father being dead, I am now 
the Walloo, and one to be obeyed. Go about your 
tasks fearing nothing, since Heu-Heu is no more and 
the most of the Hairy Folk are slain. I depart to 
rest, taking with me these, my guests and deliverers, 
and she pointed to me and Hans. “Afterwards 1 will 
talk with you, and with you also, my lord Issicore. 
Bear the late Walloo, my father, to the burial place of 
the Walloos.” 


226 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Then she turned and, followed by us and the mem¬ 
bers of her household, went to her home. 

Here she bade us farewell for a while, since we were 
all half dead with fatigue and sorely needed rest. As 
we parted, she took my hand and kissed it, thanking 
me with tears welling from her beautiful eyes for all 
that I had done, and Dramana did likewise. 

“How comes it, Baas/’ said Hans as we ate food 
and drank of the native beer before we lay down to 
sleep, “that those ladies did not kiss my hand, seeing 
that I too have done something to help them?” 

“Because they were too tired, Hans,” I answered, 
“and made one kiss serve for both of us.” 

“I see, Baas, but I expect that to-morrow they will 
still be too tired to kiss poor old Hans.” 

Then he filled the cup out of which he had been 
drinking with the last of the liquor from the jar and 
emptied it at a swallow. “There, Baas,” he said; 
“that’s only right; you may take all the kisses, so 
long as I get the beer.” 

Exhausted as I was I could not help laughing, 
although to tell the truth, I should have liked another 
glass myself. Then I tumbled on to the couch and 
instantly went to sleep. 

It is a fact that we slept all the rest of that day and 
all the following night, waking only when the first 
rays of the sun shone into our room through the 
window place. At least, I did, for when I opened my 
eyes, feeling a different creature and blessing Heaven 
for its gift of sleep to man, Hans was already up and 
engaged in cleaning the rifles and revolvers. 

I looked at the ugly little Hottentot, reflecting how 
wonderful it was that so much courage, cunning, and 
fidelity should be packed away within his yellow skin 
and projecting skull. Had it not been for Hans, 


227 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 

without a doubt I should now be dead, and the 
women also. It was he who had conceived the idea 
of letting down the sluice gate by exploding gun¬ 
powder beneath the pin of the lever. I had racked 
my brain for expedients, but this, the only one possi¬ 
ble, escaped me. How tremendous had been the 
results of that inspiration—all of them due to Hans. 

Although certain ideas had occurred to me, the 
most that I had hoped to do was to flood the low- 
lying lands, and perhaps the cave, in order to divert 
the attention of the priests while we were attempting 
escape. As it was we had loosed the forces of nature 
with the most fearful results. The water had run 
down the vent-holes of the eternal fires and into the 
bowels of the volcano, there to generate steam in 
enormous volumes, of which the imprisoned strength 
had been so great that it had rent the mountain h e 
a rotten rag and destroyed the home of Heu-Heu tor 
ever, and with it all his votaries. , 

It was a fearful event in which I thought I saw the 
mind of Providence acting through Hans. Yes, the 
cunning of the Hottentot had been used by the Pow¬ 
ers above to sweep from the earth a vile tyranny and 
to destroy a blood-soaked idol and its worshippers. 

Without a doubt—or so I believe in my simple 
faith—this had been designed from the beginning. 
When some escaped follower of Heu-Heu painted the 
picture in the Bushmen’s cave, probably hundreds ot 
years ago, it was already designed. So was Zikali s 
desire for a certain medicine, or his insatiable thirst 
for knowledge, or whatever it was that caused him to 
persuade me to undertake this mission, and so was all 

the rest of the story. , tt i j 

Again, with what wonderful judgment Hans had 
acted after his brave swim to the canoe! 

Had he tried to force those fetish-ridden cravens to 


228 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

come to our rescue at once, as I directed him to do, 
the probability was that, fearing to break their silly 
law, they would have resisted, or perhaps have rowed 
right away, leaving us to our fate, after knocking him 
on the head with a paddle. But he had the patience 
to wait, although, as he told me afterwards, his heart 
was torn in two with anxiety for my sake. Balancing 
everything in his artful and experienced mind he had 
found patience to wait until the conditions of their 
“law” were fulfilled, when they came willingly 
enough. 

From Hans my thoughts turned to Issicore. How 
was it that this man’s character had changed so 
completely since he arrived in his native country? 
His journey to seek aid made alone over hundreds 
of miles, was a really remarkable performance, show¬ 
ing great courage and determination. Also as a 
guide, although silent and abstracted, he had never 
lacked for resource or energy. But from the day that 
he arrived home, morally he had gone to pieces. It 
was with the greatest difficulty that he could be per¬ 
suaded to row us to the island, where at the first sign 
of danger he had left us to our fate and fled away. 

Again, he had meekly helped to conduct Sabeela, 
whom, when he was at the Black Kloof evidently he 
loved to desperation, to her doom without lifting a 
finger to save her from a hideous destiny. Lastly, 
only a few hours ago, he had made a pusillanimous 
and contemptible speech, which I could see shocked 
and disgusted his betrothed, who, for her part, after 
her rescue and the death of her father, seemed to have 
gained the courage that he had lost, and more. 

It was inexplicable, at any rate to me, and in my 
bewilderment I referred the problem to Hans. 

He listened while I set out the case as it appeared 
to me, then answered, 


229 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 

“The Baas does not keep his eyes open—at any 
rate, in the daytime, when he thinks everything is 
safe. If he did, he would understand why Issicore 
has become soft as a heated bar of iron. What makes 
men soft, Baas?” 

“Love,” I suggested. 

“Yes. At times love makes some men soft—I 
mean men like the Baas. And what else, Baas?” 

“Drink,” I answered savagely, getting it back on 

Hans. # T 

“Yes, at times drink makes some men soft. Men 
like me, Baas, who know that now and again it is 
wise to cease from being wise, lest Heaven should 
grow jealous of our wisdom and want to share it. But 
what makes all men soft?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Then once more I must teach the Baas, as his 
Reverend Father, the Predikant, told me to do when 
I saw that the Baas had used up all his wits, saying to 
me before he died, ‘Hans, whenever you perceive 
that my son Allan, who does not always look where 
he is going, walks into water and gets out of his depth, 
swim in and pull him out, Hans. 

“You little liar!” I ejaculated, but taking no 

notice, Hans went on, . 

“Baas, it is fear that makes all men soft. Issicore 
is bending about like a heated ramrod because 
within him burns the fire of fear.” 

“Fear of what, Hans?” 

“As I have said, if the Baas had kept his eyes open, 
he would know. Did not the Baas notice a tali, dark¬ 
faced priest before whom the crowd parted, who came 
up to Issicore when first we landed on the quay here ? 

“Yes, I saw such a man. Fie bowed politely and I 
thought was greeting Issicore and making him some 
present.” 


230 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“And did the Baas see what kind of a present he 
made him and hear his words of welcome ? The Baas 
shakes his head. Well, I did. The present he gave 
to Issicore was a little skull carved out of black ivory 
or shell, or it may have been of polished lava rock. 
And the words of welcome were, ‘The gift of Heu-Heu 
to the lord Issicore, that gift which Heu-Heu sends 
to all who break the law and dare to leave the Land 
of the Walloos.’ Those were the words, for standing 
near by, I heard them, though I kept them from the 
Baas, waiting to see what would happen afterwards. 

“Then the priest went away, and what Issicore did 
with the little black skull I do not know. Perhaps he 
wears it round his neck, as he hasn’t got a watch 
chain, just as the Baas used to wear things that ladies 
had given him, or their pictures in a little silver 
brandy flask.” 

“Well, and what about this skull, Hans? What 
does it mean?” 

“Baas, I made inquiries of an old man in that 
canoe, to pass the time away, Baas, as Issicore was at 
the other end and could not hear me. It means 
death , Baas. Does not the Baas remember how we 
were told at the Black Kloof that those who dared to 
leave the Land of Heu-Heu were always smitten with 
some sickness and died? Well, Baas, Issicore got 
out all right and left the sickness behind him, I expect 
because the priests did not know that he was going. 
But he made a mistake, Baas, that of coming back 
again, being drawn by his love of Sabeela, just as a 
fish is drawn by the bait on the hook, Baas. And 
now the hook is fast in his mouth, for the priests knew 
of his return well enough, Baas, and of course were 
waiting for him.” 

j “What do you mean, Hans? How can the priests 
hurt Issicore, especially when they are all dead?” 


231 


THE END OF HEU-HEU 

“Yes, Baas, they are all dead and can harm no one, 
but Issicore is right when he says that Heu-Heu is 
not dead, because the devil never dies, Baas. His 
priests are dead, but still Heu-Heu could kill the old 
Walloo, and so he can kill Issicore. There is a great 
deal in this fetish business, Baas, that good Christians 
like you and I do not understand. It won’t work on 
Christians, Baas, which is why Heu-Heu can’t kill us, 
but those who worship the Black One, at last the 
Black One takes by the throat.” 

I thought to myself that here Hans, although he 
did not know it, was enunciating one of the pro- 
foundest and most fundamental of truths, since those 
who bow the knee to Baal are Baal’s servants and live 
under his law, even to the death, and what is Baal 
but Heu-Heu, or Satan? The fruit is always the 
same, by whatever name the tree may be called. 
However, I did not enter upon this argument with 
Hans, whom it would have bewildered, but only asked 
him what he meant and what he imagined was going 
to happen to Issicore. He answered, 

“I mean just what I have said, Baas; I mean that 
Issicore is going to die. That old man told me that 
those who ‘receive the Black Skull,’ always die within 
the month, and often more quickly. From the look 
of him, I should think that Issicore will not last more 
than a week. Although so handsome, he is really 
very dull, Baas, so it does not much matter, espe¬ 
cially as the Lady Sabeela will get over it quite soon. 
That is why Issicore has changed, Baas. It is be¬ 
cause the fear of death is on him. In the same way 
Sabeela has changed because the fear of death and 
what to her, perhaps, is worse, has passed away. 

“Bosh!” I exclaimed, but internally 1 had my 
doubts. I knew something of this fetish business, 
although I believed it to be the greatest of rubbish, 


232 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

I was sure that it is extremely dangerous rubbish. 
The secret soul of man, especially of savage, or primi¬ 
tive and untaught man, or the sub-conscious self, or 
whatever you choose to call it, is a terrible entity 
when brought into action by the hereditary super¬ 
stitions that are born in his blood. In nine cases out 
of ten, if the victim of those superstitions is told with 
the accustomed ceremonies by the oracle of the god or 
devil from which they flow, that he will die, he does 
die. Nothing kills him, but he commits a kind of 
moral suicide. As Hans had said—Fear makes him 
soft. Then some kind of nervous disease penetrates 
his system and at the appointed hour withers up his 
physical life and causes him to pass away. i 

Such, as it proved, was to be the fate of that 
Apollo-like person, the unhappy Issicore. 


CHAPTER XV 
Sabeela’s Farewell 

Now of this story there is little left to tell, and as it 
is very late and I see that you are all yawning, my 
friends [this was not true, for we were deeply in¬ 
terested, especially over the moral or spiritual prob¬ 
lem of Issicore], I will cut that little as short as I can. 
It shall be a mere footnote. 

After we had eaten that morning, we went to see 
Sabeela, whom we found very agitated. This was 
natural enough, considering all she had gone through, 
as after mental strain and the passing of great perils, 
a nervous reaction invariably follows. Also, in a 
sudden and terrible fashion, she had lost her father, 
to whom she was attached. But the real cause of her 
distress was different. 

Issicore, it seemed, had been taken very ill. No¬ 
body knew what was the matter with him, but 
Sabeela was persuaded that he had been poisoned. 
She begged me to visit him at once and cure him—a 
request that made me indignant. I explained to her 
that I was no authority on their native poisons, if 
he suffered from anything of the sort, and had few 
medicines with me, the only one of which that dealt 
with poisons was an antidote to snake bites. How¬ 
ever, as she was very insistent, I said that I would go 
and see what I could do, which would probably be 
nothing. 

So, together with Hans, I was conducted by some 
233 


234 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

of the old headmen, o. councillors of the Walloo, such 
people as in Zululand we should call Indunas , to the 
house of Issicore, a rather fine building of its sort at 
the other end of the town. We walked by the road 
that ran along the edge of the lake, which gave us an 
opportunity to observe the island, or rather what 
had been the island. 

Now it was nothing but a low, dark mass, over 
which hung dense clouds of steam. When the winds 
stirred these clouds, I saw that beneath them were 
red streams of lava that ran into the lake. There 
were no more eruptions and the volcano appeared 
to have vanished away. Much dust was still falling. 
It lay thick upon the roadway and all the trees and 
other vegetation were covered with it, turning the 
landscape to a hue of ashen grey. Otherwise no 
damage had been done on the mainland, except that 
here and there boulders had fallen and some of 
the lower-lying fields were inundated by the great 
flood, which was now abating, although the river 
still overflowed its banks. 

We reached the house of Issicore and were shown 
into his chamber, where he lay upon a couch of skins, 
attended by some women who, I understood, were his 
relatives. When Hans and I entered, these women 
bowed and went out, leaving us alone with the 
patient. A glance told me that he was a dying man. 
His fine eyes were fixed on vacancy; he breathed in 
gasps; his fingers clasped and unclasped themselves 
automatically, and from time to time he was taken 
with violent shiverings. These I thought must be 
due to some form of fever until I had tested his tem¬ 
perature with the thermometer I had in my little med¬ 
icine case and found that it was two degrees below 
normal. On being questioned, he said that he had 
no pain and suffered only from great weakness and 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 


235 

from a whirling of the head, by which I suppose he 
meant giddiness. 

I asked him to what he attributed his condition. 
He answered, 

“To the curse of Heu-Heu, Lord Macumazahn. 
Heu-Heu is killing me.” 

I inquired why, for to argue about the folly of the 
business was futile, and he replied, 

“For two reasons, Lord: first, because I left the 
land without his leave, and secondly, because I 
rowed you and the yellow man called Light-in- 
Darkness to the Holy Isle, to visit which unsummoned 
is the greatest of crimes. For this cause I must die 
more quickly than otherwise I should have done, but 
in any case my doom was certain, because I left the 
land to seek help for Sabeela. Here is the proof of 
it,” and from somewhere about his person he pro¬ 
duced the little black Death’s Head which Hans had 
described to me. Then, without allowing me to 
touch the horrid thing, he hid it away again. 

I tried to laugh him out of this idea, but he only 
smiled sadly and said, 

“I know that you must have thought me a coward, 
Lord, because of the way I have borne myself since 
we reached this town of Walloo, but it was the curse 
of Heu-Heu working within me that changed my 
spirit. I pray you to explain this to Sabeela, whom 
I love, but who I think also believes me a coward, for 
yesterday I read it in her eyes. Now while I have 
still strength I would speak to you. First, I thank 
you and the yellow man, Light-in-Darkness, who by 
courage or by magic—I know not which—have 
saved Sabeela from Heu-Heu, and have destroyed his 
House and his priests and, I am told, his image. 
Heu-Heu, it is true, lives on since he cannot die, but 
henceforward here he is without a home or a shape 


236 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

or a worshipper, and therefore his power over the 
souls and bodies of men is gone, and, among the 
Walloos, in time his worship will die out. Perhaps 
no more of my people will perish by the curse of 
Heu-Heu, Lord.” 

“But why should you die, Issicore?” 

“Because the curse fell on me first, Lord, while 
Heu-Heu reigned over the Walloos, as he has done 
from the beginning, he who was once their earthly 
Ling.” 

I began to combat this nonsense, but he waved his 
hand in protest, and went on: 

“Lord, my time is short and I would say some¬ 
thing to you. Soon I shall be no more and forgotten, 
even by Sabeela, whose husband I had hoped to 
become. I pray, therefore, that you will marry 
Sabeela.” 

Here I gasped, but held my peace till he had 
finished. 

“Already I have caused her to be informed that 
such is my last wish. Also I have caused all the 
elders of the Walloos to be informed, and at a meet¬ 
ing held this morning they decided that this marriage 
would be right and wise, and have sent a messen¬ 
ger to tell me to die as quickly as I can, in order that 
it may be arranged at once.” 

“Great Heavens!” I exclaimed, but again he 
motioned to me to be silent, and went on: 

“Lord, although she is not of your race, Sabeela is 
very beautiful, very wise also, and with you for 
her husband she may be able once more to build up 
the Walloos into a great people, as tradition says they 
were in the old days before there fell upon them the 
curse of Heu-Heu, which is now broken. For you, 
too, are wise and bold, and know many things which 
we do not know, and the people will serve you as a 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 


237 

god and perhaps come to worship you in place of 
Heu-Heu, so that you found a mighty dynasty. At 
first this thought may seem strange to you, but soon 
you will come to see that it is great and good. More¬ 
over, even if you were unwilling, things must come 
about as I have said.” 

“Why?” I asked, unable to contain myself any 
longer. 

“ Because, Lord, here in this land you must spend 
the rest of your life, for in it now you are a prisoner, 
nor with all your courage can you escape, since none 
will row you down the river, nor can you force a way, 
for it will be watched. Moreover, when you return 
to the house of the Walloo you will find that your 
cartridges have been taken, so that except for a few 
that you have about you, you are weaponless. There¬ 
fore, as here you must live, it is better that you 
should do so with Sabeela rather than with any 
other woman, since she is the fairest and the cleverest 
of them all. Also by right of blood she is the ruler, 
and through her you will become Walloo, as I should 
have done according to our custom.” 

At this point he closed his eyes and for a while 
appeared to become senseless. Presently he opened 
them again and, staring at me, lifted his feeble hands 
and cried: 

“Greeting to the Walloo! Long life and glory to 
the Walloo!” 

Nor was this all, for, to my horror, from the other 
side of the partition that divided the house I heard 
the women whom I have mentioned echo the saluta- 

tl0 “Greeting to the Walloo! Long life and glory to 
the Walloo!” 

Then again Issicore became senseless; at least, 
nothing I said seemed to reach his understanding. 


238 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

So after waiting for a time Hans and I went away, 
thinking that all was over. This, however, was not 
so, since he lived till nightfall and, I was told, re¬ 
covered his senses for some hours before the end, 
during which time Sabeela visited him, accompanied 
by certain of the notables or elders. It was then, 
as I suppose, that this ill-fated but most unselfish 
Issicore, the handsomest man whom ever I beheld, to 
his own satisfaction, if not to mine, settled every¬ 
thing for what he conceived to be the welfare of his 
country and his ladylove. 

“Well, Baas,” said Hans when we were outside the 
house, “I suppose we had better go home. It is 
your home now, isn’t it, Baas? No, Baas, it is no 
use looking at that river, for you see these Wallos are 
so kind that they have already provided you with a 
chief’s escort.” 

I looked. It was true enough. In place of the one 
man who had guided us to the house there were now 
twenty great fellows armed with spears who saluted 
me in a most reverential manner and insisted upon 
sticking close to my heels, I presume in case I should 
try to take to them. So back we went, the guard 
of twenty marching in a soldierlike fashion im¬ 
mediately behind, while Hans declaimed at me: 

“It is just what I expected, Baas, for of course if 
a man is very fond of women, in his inside, Baas, 
they know it and like him—no need to tell them in 
so many words, Baas—and being kind-hearted, are 
quite ready to be fond of him. That is what has 
happened here, Baas. From the moment that the 
lady Sabeela saw you, she didn’t care a pinch of 
snuff for Issicore, although he was so good-looking 
and had walked such a long way to help her. No, 
Baas, she perceived something in you which she 


SAB EEL A’S FAREWELL 


239 

couldn’t find in two yards and a bit of Issicore, who 
after all was an empty kind of a drum, Baas, and 
only made a noise when you hit him—a little noise 
for a small tap, Baas, and a big noise for a bang. 
Moreover, whatever he was, he is done for now, so 
it is no use wasting time talking about him. 

“Well, this won’t be such a bad country to live in 
now that the most of those Heuheua are dead— 
look! there are some of their bodies lying on the 
shore—and no doubt the beer can be brewed stronger, 
and there is tobacco. So it will be all right till we get 
tired of it, Baas, after which, perhaps, we shall be 
able to run away. Still, I am glad none of them 
wish to marry me, Baas, and make me work like a 
whole team of oxen to drag them out of their mud- 
holes.” 

Thus he went on pouring out his bosh by the yard, 
and literally I was so crushed that I couldn’t find a 
word in answer. Truly, it is the unexpected that 
always happens. During the last few days I had 
foreseen many dangers and dealt with some. But 
this was one of which I had never dreamed. What a 
fate! To be kept a prisoner in a kind of gilded cage 
and made to labour for my living too, like a per¬ 
forming monkey. Well, I would find a way between 
the bars or my name wasn’t Allan Quatermain. 
Only what way? At the time I could see none, for 
those bars seemed to be thick and strong. More¬ 
over, there were those gentlemen with the spears 
behind.* 

In due course we arrived at the Walloo’s house 
without incident and went straight to our room 
where, after investigation in a corner, Hans called 
out: 

“Issicore was quite right, Baas. All the cartridges 
have gone and the rifles also. Now we have only got 


240 


HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

our pistols and twenty-four rounds of ammunition 
between us.” 

I looked. It was so! Then I stared out of the 
window-place, and behold! there in the garden were 
the twenty men already engaged in marking out 
ground for the erection of a guard-hut. 

“They mean to settle there, so as to be nice and 
handy in case the Baas wants them—or they^want 
the Baas,” said Hans significantly, adding, “I be¬ 
lieve that wherever he goes the Walloo always has an 
escort of twenty men!” 

Now for the next few days I saw nothing of Sa- 
beela, or of Dramana either, since they were engaged 
in the ceremonious obsequies, first of the Walloo and 
next of the unlucky Issicore, to which for some 
religious reason or other, I was not invited. 

Certain headmen or Indunas, however, were always 
waiting to pounce on me. Whenever I put my nose 
out-of-doors they appeared, bowing humbly, and 
proceeded to take the occasion to instruct me in the 
history and customs of the Walloo people, till I 
thought that my boyhood had returned and I was 
once more reading “Sandford and Merton” and 
acquiring knowledge through the art of conversation. 
Those old gentlemen bored me stiff. I tried to get 
rid of them by taking long walks at a great pace, but 
they responded nobly, being ready to trot by my side 
till they dropped, talking, talking, talking. More¬ 
over, if I could outwalk those ancient councillors, 
the guard of twenty who formed a kind of chorus 
on these expeditions, were excellent hands with their 
legs, as an Irishman might say, and never turned a 
hair. Sometimes they turned me, however, if they 
thought I was going where I should not, since then half 
of them would dart ahead and politely bar the way. 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 


241 

At length, on the third or fourth day, all the cere¬ 
monies were finished and I was summoned into 
Sabeela’s presence. 

As Hans said afterwards, it was all very fine. In¬ 
deed, I thought it pathetic with its somewhat tawdry 
conditions of ancient, almost forgotten ceremonial 
inherited from a highly civilized race that was now 
sinking into barbarism. There was the Lady 
Sabeela, very beautiful to see, for she was a lovely 
woman and grandly dressed in a half-wild fashion, who 
played the part of a queen and not without dignity, 
as perhaps her ancestresses had done thousands of 
years before on some greater stage. Here too were 
her white-haired attendants or Indunas, the same 
who bored me out walking, representing the coun¬ 
cillors and high officials of forgotten ages. 

Yet the Queen was no longer a queen; she was 
merging into the savage chieftainess, as the coun¬ 
cillors were into the chattering mob that surrounds 
such a person in a thousand kraals or towns of 
Africa. The proceedings, too, were very long, 
for each of these councillors or elders made a 
speech in which he repeated all that the others had 
said before, narrating with variations everything 
that happened in the land since I had set foot within 
it, together with fancy accounts of what Hans and I 
had done upon the island. 

From these speeches, however, I learned one thing, 
namely, that most of the wild Hairy Folk, who were 
named Heuheua,had perished in the great catastrophe 
of the blowing up of the mountain, only a few, together 
with the old men, the children and the females, being 
left to carry on the race. Therefore, they said, the 
Walloos'were safe from attack, at any rate, for a couple 
of generations to come, as might be learned from the 
wailings which arose in the forest at night that, as 


242 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

a matter of fact, I had heard myself—pathetic and 
horrible sounds of almost animal grief. This, said 
these merciless sages, gave the Walloos a great op¬ 
portunity, for now was the time to hunt down and 
kill the Wood-folk to the last woman and child—a 
task which they considered I was eminently fitted to 
carry out! 

When they had all spoken, Sabeela’s turn came. 
She rose from her throne-like chair and addressed us 
with real eloquence. First of all she pointed out 
that she was a woman suffering from a double grief— 
the death of her father and that of the man to whom 
she had been affianced, losses that made her heart 
heavy. Then, very touchingly, she thanked Hans 
and myself for all we had done to save her. But for 
us, she said, either she would now have been dead 
or nothing but a degraded slave in the house of Heu- 
Heu, which we had destroyed together with Heu- 
Heu himself, with the result that she and the land 
were free once more. Next she announced in words 
which evidently had been prepared, that this was no 
time for her to think of past sorrows or love, who now 
must look to the future. For a man like myself there 
was but one fitting reward, and that was the rule over 
the Walloo people, and with it the gift of her own 
person. 

Therefore, by the wish of her Councillors, she had 
decreed that we were to be wed on the fourth morn¬ 
ing from that of the present day, after which, by right 
of marriage, I was publicly to be declared the Walloo. 
Meanwhile, she summoned me to her side (where an 
empty chair had been set in preparation for this 
event) that we might exchange the kiss of betrothal. 

Now, as may be imagined, I hung back; indeed, 
never have I felt more firmly fixed to a seat than at 
that fearsome moment. I did not know what to say, 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 243 

and my tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth. 
So I just sat still with all those old donkeys staring 
at me, Sabeela watching me out of the corners of her 
eyes and waiting. The silence grew painful, and in 
its midst Hans coughed in his husky fashion, then 
delivered himself thus. 

“Get up, Baas,” he whispered “and go through 
with it. It isn’t half as bad as it looks, and indeed, 
some people would like it very much. It is better to 
kiss a pretty lady than have your throat cut, Baas, 
for that is what I think will happen if you don’t, 
because a woman whom you won’t kiss, after she has 
asked you in public, always turns nasty, Baas.” 

I felt that there was force in this argument, and, to 
cut a long story short, I went up into that chair and 
did—well—all that was required. Lord! what a 
fool I felt while those idiots cheered and Hans below 
grinned at me like a whole cageful of baboons. How¬ 
ever, it was but ceremonial, a mere formality, just 
touching the brow of the fair Sabeela with my lips 
and receiving an acknowledgment in kind. 

After this we sat a while side by side listening to 
those old Walloo Councillors chanting a ridiculous 
song, something about the marriage of a hero to a 
goddess, which I presume they must have composed 
for the occasion. Under cover of the noise, which 
was great, for they had excellent lungs, Sabeela 
spoke to me in a low voice and without turning her 
face or looking at me. 

“Lord,” she said, “try to look less unhappy lest 
these people should suspect something and listen to 
what we are saying. The law is that we should meet 
no more till the marriage day, but I must see you 
alone to-night. Have no fear,” she added with a 
rather sarcastic smile, “for, although I must be 
alone, you can bring your companion with you, since 


244 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

what I have to say concerns you both. Meet me in 
the passage that runs from this chamber to your own, 
at midnight when all sleep. It has no window 
places and its walls are thick, so that there we can 
be neither seen nor heard. Be careful to bolt the 
door behind you, as I will that of this chamber. Do 
you understand?” 

Clapping my hands hilariously to show my delight 
in the musical performance, I whispered back that I 

did. 

“Good. When the singing comes to an end, an¬ 
nounce that you have a request to make of me. Ask 
that to-morrow you may be given a canoe and 
paddlers to row you to the island to learn what has 
happened there and to discover whether any of the 
Wood-folk are still alive upon its shores. Say that 
if so measures must be taken to make an end of them, 
lest they should escape. Now speak no more.” 

At length the song was finished, and with it the 
ceremony. To show that this was over, Sabeela 
rose from her chair and curtseyed to me, whereon I 
also rose and returned the compliment with my best 
bow. Thus, then, we bade a public farewell of each 
other until the happy marriage morn. Before we 
parted, however, I asked as a favour in a loud voice 
that I might be permitted to visit the island, or, at 
any rate, to row round it, giving the reasons she 
had suggested. To this she answered, “Let it be as 
my Lord wishes,” and before any one could raise 
objections, withdrew herself, followed by some serv¬ 
ing women and by Dramana, who I thought did not 
seem too pleased at the turn events had taken. 

I pass on to that midnight interview. At the 
appointed time, or rather a little before it, I went into 
the passage accompanied by Hans, who was most un- 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 245 

willing to come for reasons which he gave in a Dutch 
proverb to the effect of our own; that two’s company 
and three’s none. Here we stood in the dark and 
waited. A few minutes later the door at the far 
end of it opened—it was a very long passage—and 
walking down it appeared Sabeela, clad in white 
and bearing in her hand a naked lamp. Somehow 
in this garb and these surroundings, thus illumined, 
she looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her, 
almost spirit-like indeed. We met, and .without 
any greeting she said to me, 

“Lord Watcher-by-Night, I find you watching by 
night according to my prayer. It may have seemed 
a strange prayer to you, but hearken to its reason. I 
cannot think that you believe me to desire this 
marriage, which I know to be hateful to you, seeing 
that I am of another race to yourself and that you 
only look upon me as a half-savage woman whom it 
has been your fortune to save from shame or death. 
Nay, contradict me not, I beseech you, since at 
times the truth is good. Because it is so good I will 
add to it, telling you the reason why I also do not 
desire this marriage, or rather the greatest reason; 
namely, that I loved Issicore, who from childhood 
had been my playmate until he became more than 
playmate.” 

“Yes,” I interrupted, “and I know that he loved 
you. Only then why was it that on his deathbed he 
himself urged on this matter?” 

“Because, Lord, Issicore had a noble heart. He 
thought you the greatest man whom he had ever 
known, half a god indeed, for he told me so. He 
held also that you would make me happy and rule 
this country well, lifting it up again out of its long 
sleep. Lastly, he knew that if you did not marry 
me, you and your companion would be murdered. 


246 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

If he judged wrongly in these matters, it must be 
remembered, moreover, that his mind was blotted 
with the poison that had been given to him, for 
myself I am sure that he did not die of fear alone.” 

“I understand. All honour be to him,” I said. 

“I thank you. Now, Lord, know that, although 
I am ignorant I believe that we live again beyond 
the gate of Death. Perhaps that faith has come 
down to me from my forefathers when they wor¬ 
shipped other gods besides the devil Heu-Heu; at 
least, it is mine. My hope is, therefore, that when I 
have passed that gate, which perhaps will be before 
so very long, on its farther side I shall once more find 
Issicore—Issicore as he was before the curse of Heu- 
Heu fell upon him and he drank the poison of the 
priests—and for this reason I desire to wed no other 
man.” 

“All honour be to you also,” I murmured. 

“Again I thank you, Lord. Now let us turn to 
other matters. To-morrow after midday a canoe 
will be ready, and in it you will find your weapons 
that have been stolen and all that is yours. It will be 
manned by four rowers; men known to be spies of the 
priests of Heu-Heu, stationed here upon the main¬ 
land to watch the Walloos, who in time would them¬ 
selves have become priests. Therefore, now that 
Heu-Heu has fallen they are doomed to die, not at 
once but after a while, perhaps, as it will seem, by 
sickness or accident, because if they live, the Walloo 
Councillors fear lest they should reestablish the 
rule of Heu-Heu. They know this well, and there¬ 
fore they desire above all things to escape the land 
while their life is yet in them.” 

“Have you seen these men, Sabeela?” 

“Nay, but Dramana has seen them. Now, Lord, 
I will tell you something, if you have not guessed it 


SABEELA’S FAREWELL 247 

for yourself, though I do this not without shame. 
Dramana does not desire our marriage, Lord. You 
saved Dramana as well as myself, and Dramana, 
like Issicore, has come to look on you as half a god. 
Need I say more, save that, of course, for this reason 
she does desire your escape, since she would rather 
that you went free and were lost to both of us than 
that you should bide here and marry me. Have I 
said enough?” 

“Plenty,” I answered, knowing that she spoke 
truth. 

“Then what is there to add, save that I trust ail 
will go well, and that by the dawn of the day that 
follows this, you and the yellow man, your servant, 
will be safely out of this accursed land. If that comes 
about, as I believe it will, for after the dusk has fallen 
and before the moon rises those who guide the canoe 
will bring it, not to the quay, but into the mouth of 
the river down which you must paddle by the moon¬ 
light; then I pray of you at times in your own 
country to think of Sabeela, the broken-hearted chief- 
tainess of a doomed people, as day by day, when she 
rises and lays herself down to sleep, she will think of 
you who saved her and all of us from ruin. My Lord, 
farewell, and to you, Light-in-Darkness, also fare¬ 
well.” 

Then she took my hand, kissed it, and, without 
another word, glided away as she had come. 

This was the last that ever I saw or heard of 
Sabeela the Beautiful. I wonder whether she lived 
long. Somehow I do not think so; that night I 
seemed to see death in her eyes. 


CHAPTER XVI 
The Race for Life 

Now, like a Scotch parson, I have come to “lastly”— 
that inspiring word at which the sleepiest congrega¬ 
tion awakes. The morning fo!lowing this strange 
midnight meeting, Hans and I spent in our room, 
for it appeared to be the ancient Walloo etiquette 
that, save by special permission, the prospective 
bridegroom should not go out for several days before 
the marriage, I suppose because of some primitive 
idea that his affections might be diverted by the 
sight of alien beauty. 

At midday we ate, or, so far as I was concerned, 
pretended to eat, for anxiety took away my ap¬ 
petite. A little while afterwards, to my intense 
relief, the captain of our prison-warders, for that is 
what they were, appeared and said that he was com¬ 
manded to conduct us to the canoe which was to 
paddle us to inspect what remained of the island, 
i replied that we would graciously consent to go. 
So taking all our small possessions with us, including 
a bundle containing our spare clothes and the twigs 
from the Tree of Illusions, we departed and were 
escorted to the quay by our guards, of whose faces 
I was heartily tired. Here we found a small canoe 
awaiting us, manned by four secret-faced men, strong 
fellows all of them, who raised their paddles in sa¬ 
lute. Apparently the place had been cleared of 
loiterers, since there was only,one other person pres- 
248 . 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 249 

ent, a woman wrapped in a long cloak that hid her 
face. 

As we were about to enter the canoe this woman ap¬ 
proached us and lifted her hood. She was Dramana. 

“Lord,” she said, “I have been sent by my sister, 
the new Walloo, to tell you that you will find the 
iron tubes which spit out fire and all that belongs to 
them under a mat in the prow of the canoe. Also she 
bids me wish you a prosperous journey to the island 
that aforetime was named Holy, which island she 
wishes never to see again.” 

I thanked her and bade her convey my greeting to 
the Walloo, my bride to be, adding in a loud voice, 
that I hoped ere long to be able to do this in person 
when her “veil fell down.” 

Then I turned to enter the canoe. 

“Lord,” said Dramana with a convulsive move¬ 
ment of her hands, “I make a prayer to you. It is 
that you will take me with you to look my last upon 
that isle where I dwelt so long a slave, which I desire 
to see once more—now that I am free.” 

Instinctively I felt that a crisis had arisen which 
demanded firm and even brutal treatment. 

“Nay, Dramana,” I answered, “it is always un¬ 
lucky for an escaped slave to revisit his prison, lest 
once more its bars should close about that slave.” 

“Lord,” she said, “the loosed prisoner is sometimes 
dazed by freedom, so that the heart cries again for its 
captivity. Lord, I am a good slave and a loving. 
Will you not take me with you?” 

“Nay, Dramana,” I answered as I sprang into the 
canoe. “This boat is fully loaded. It would not 
be for your welfare or for mine. Farewell!” 

She gazed at me earnestly with a pitiful counten¬ 
ance that grew wrathful by degrees, as might well 
happen in the case of a woman scorned; then, mut- 


250 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

tering something about being “cast off,” burst into 
angry tears and turned away. For my part I mo¬ 
tioned to the oarsmen to loose the craft and departed, 
feeling like a thief and a traitor. Yet I was not to 
blame, for what else could I do? Dramana, it is 
true, had been a good friend to us, and I liked her. 
But we had repaid her help by saving her from Heu- 
Heu, and for the rest, one must draw the line 
somewhere. If once she had entered that canoe, 
metaphorically speaking, she would never have got 
out of it again. 

Presently we were out on the open lake where the 
wavelets danced and the sun shone brightly, and glad 
I was to be clear of all those painful complications 
and once more in the company of pure and natural 
things. We paddled away to the island and made 
the land, or rather drew near to it, at the spot where 
the ancient city had stood in which we had found the 
petrified men and animals. But we did not set foot 
on it, for everywhere little streams of glowing lava 
trickled down into the lake and the ruins had van¬ 
ished beneath a sea of ashes. I do not think that 
any one will ever again behold those strange relics 
of a past I know not how remote. 

Turning, we paddled on slowly round the island till 
we came to the place where the Rock of Offering had 
been, upon which I had experienced so terrible an 
adventure. It had vanished, and with it the cave 
mouth, the garden of Heu-Heu, its Tree of 
Illusions, and all the rich cultivated land. The 
waters of the lake, turbid and steaming, now beat 
against the face of a stony hillock which was all that 
remained of the Holy Isle. The catastrophe was 
complete; the volcano was but a lump of lava from 
the dying heart of which its life-blood of flame still 
palpitated in red and ebbing streams. I wonder 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 251 

whether its smothered fires will ever break out again 
elsewhere. For aught I know they may have done 
so already somewhere on the mainland. 

By the time that we had completed our journey 
round the place on which no living creature now was 
left, though once or twice we saw the bloated body of 
a Heuheua savage bobbing about in the water, the 
sun was setting, and it was dark before we were 
again off the town of the Walloos. While any 
light remained by which we could be seen, we headed 
straight for the landing place, that which we had 
left when we started for the island. 

The moment that its last rays faded, however, 
there was a whispered conference between our four 
paddlemen, the ex-neophytes of Heu-Heu. Then the 
direction of the canoe was altered, and instead of 
making for the main land, we rowed on parallel with 
it till we came to the mouth of the Black River. It 
was so dark that I could not discern the exact time at 
which we left the lake and entered the stream; indeed, 
I did not know that we were in it until the increased 
current told me so. This current was now running 
very strongly after the great flood and bore us along 
at a good pace. My fear was lest in the gloom we 
should be dashed against rocks on the banks, or 
caught by the overhanging branches of trees or strike 
a snag, but those four men seemed to know every 
yard of the river and managed to keep us in its 
centre, probably by following the current where it 
ran most swiftly. 

So we went on, not paddling very fast for fear of 
accidents, until the moon rose, which, as she was 
only a few days past her full, gave us considerable 
light even in that dark place. So soon as her rays 
reached us our paddlers gave way with a will, and we 
shot down the flooded stream at a great speed. 


252 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

“I think we are all right now, Baas,” said Hans, 
“for with so good a start those Walloos could 
scarcely catch us, even if they try. We are lucky, 
too, for you have left behind you two ladies who 
between them would have torn you into pieces, and 
I have left a place where the fools who live in it 
wearied me so much that I should soon have died.” 

He paused for a moment, then added in a horrified 
voice: 

“ Allemagter! we are not so lucky after all; we 
have forgotten something.” 

“What?” I asked anxiously. 

“Why, Baas, those red and white stones we came 
to fetch, of which, before Heu-Heu dropped a red-hot 
rock upon his head, that old kraansick” (that is, mad) 
“Walloo, promised us as many as we wished. Sa- 
beela would have filled the boat with them if we had 
only asked her, and we should never have had to 
work any more, but could have sat in fine houses and 
drunk the best gin from morning to night.” 

At these words I felt positively sick. It was too 
true. Amongst other pressing matters, concerning 
life, death, marriage, and liberty, I had forgotten 
utterly all about the diamonds and gold. Still 
when I came to think of it, although perhaps Hans 
might have done so, in view of the manner of our 
parting, I did not quite see how I could have asked 
Sabeela for them. It would have been an anti¬ 
climax and might have left a nasty taste in her 
mouth. How could she continue to look upon a 
man as—well, something quite out of the ordinary, 
who called her back to remind her that there was a 
little pecuniary matter to be settled and a fee to be 
paid for services rendered? Further, the sight of 
us bearing sacks of treasure might have excited sus¬ 
picion; unless, indeed, Sabeela had caused them to be 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 


253 

placed in the boat as she did in the case of the 
guns. Also they would have been heavy and incon¬ 
venient to carry, as I explained to Hans. Yet I did 
feel sick, for once more my hopes of wealth, or, at 
any rate, of a solid competence for the rest of my 
days, had vanished into thin air. 

“Life is more than gold,” I said sententiously to 
Hans, “and great honour is better than both.” 

It sounded like something out of the Book of 
Proverbs, but somehow I had not got it quite right 
though I reflected that fortunately Hans would not 
know the difference. However, he knew more than I 
thought, for he answered, 

“Yes, Baas, your Reverend Father used to talk like 
that. Also he said that it was better to live on water- 
cresses with an easy mind, however angry they 
might make your stomach, than to dwell in a big hut 
with a couple of cross women, which is what would 
have happened to you, Baas, if you had stopped at 
Walloo. Besides, we are quite safe now, even if we 
haven’t got the gold and diamonds, which, as you say, 
are heavy things, so safe that I think I shall go to 
sleep, Baas. Allemagter! Baas, what 9 s that? ” 

“Only those poor hairy women howling over their 
dead in the forest,” I answered rather carelessly, for 
their cries, which were very distressing in the silence 
of the river, still echoed in my ears. Also I was still 
thinking of the lost diamonds. 

“I wish it were, Baas. They might howl till their 
heads fell off for all I care. But it isn’t. It’s pad¬ 
dles. The Walloos are hunting us , Baas . Listen!” 

I did listen, and to my horror heard the regular 
stroke of paddles striking the water at a distance 
behind us, a great number of them, fifty I should say. 
One of the big canoes must be on our track. 

“Oh, Baas!” said Hans, “it is your fault again. 


254 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER. 

Without doubt that lady Dramana loves you so 
much that she can’t make up her mind to part with 
you and has ordered out a big canoe to fetch you 
back. Unless, indeed,” he added with an access of 
hopefulness,' “it is the Lady Sabeela sending a fare¬ 
well gift of jewels after us, having remembered that 
we should like some to make us think of her after¬ 
wards.” 

“It is those confounded Walloos sending a gift of 
spears,” I answered gloomily, adding, “Get the rifles 
ready, Hans, for I’m not going to be taken alive.” 

Whatever the cause, it was clear that we were being 
pursued, and in my heart I did wonder whether Dra¬ 
mana had anything to do with it. No doubt I had 
treated her rudely because I could not help it, and 
savage women are sometimes very revengeful, also 
Dramana had been badly trained among those 
rascally priests. But I hoped, and still hope, that 
she was innocent of this treachery. The truth of the 
matter I never learned. 

Our crew of escaping priestly spies had also heard 
the paddles, for I saw the frightened look they gave 
to each other and the fierce energy with which they 
bent themselves to their work. Good heavens! how 
they paddled, who knew that their lives hung upon 
the issue. For hour after hour away we flew down 
that flooded, rushing river, while behind us, drawing 
nearer minute by minute, sounded the beat of those 
insistent paddles. Our canoe was swift, but how 
could we hope to escape from one driven by fifty 
men when we had but four? 

It was just as we passed the place where we had 
slept on our inward journey—for now we had left the 
forest behind and were between the cliffs, travelling 
quite twice as fast as we had done up stream—that 
I caught sight of the pursuing boat, perhaps half a 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 255 

mile behind us, and saw that it was one of the largest 
of the Walloo fleet. After this, owing to the position of 
the moon, that in this narrow place left the surface 
of the water quite dark, I saw it no more for several 
hours. But I heard it drawing nearer, ever nearer, 
like some sure and deadly bloodhound following on 
the spoor of a fleeing slave. 

Our men began to tire. Hans and I took the pad¬ 
dles of two of them to give the pair a rest and time 
to eat; then for a spell the paddles of the other 
two, while they did likewise. This, however, caused 
us to lose way, since we were not experts at the 
game, though here after the flood the river rushed so 
fast that our lack of skill made little difference. 

At length the daylight came and gathered till at 
last the glimmer of it reached us in our cleft, and by 
that faint, uncertain light I saw the pursuing canoe 
not a hundred yards behind. In its way it was a 
very weird and impressive spectacle. There were the 
precipitous, towering cliffs, between or rather above 
which appeared a line of blue sky. There was the 
darksome, flood-filled, foaming river, and there on its 
surface was our tiny boat propelled by four weary 
and perspiring men, while behind came the great 
war canoe whose presence could just be detected in a 
dim outline and by the white of the water where its 
oarsmen smote it into froth. 

“They are coming up fast, Baas, and we still have 
a long way to go. Soon they will catch us, Baas,” 
said Hans. 

“Then we must try to stop them for a while,” I 
answered grimly. “Give me the Express rifle* 
Hans, and do you take the Winchester.” 

Then, lying down in the canoe and resting the 
rifles on its stern, we waited our opportunity. Pres¬ 
ently we came to a place where at some time there 


256 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

had been a cliff-slide, for here the debris of it nar¬ 
rowed the river, turning it, now that it was so full, 
into something like a torrent. At this spot, also, 
because of the enlargement of the cleft, more light 
reached us, so that we could see our pursuers, who 
were about fifty yards away, not clearly indeed, but 
well enough for our purpose. 

“Aim low and pump it into them, Hans,” I said, 
and next instant discharged both barrels of the 
Express at the foremost rowers. 

Hans followed suit, but, as the Winchester held five 
cartridges, went on firing after I had ceased. 

The result was instantaneous. Some men sank 
down, some paddles fell into the water—I could not 
tell how many—and a great cry arose from the 
smitten or their companions. He who steered or 
captained the canoe from the prow apparently was 
among the hit. She veered round and for a while was 
broadside on to the current, exposing her bottom and 
threatening to turn over. Into this, having loaded, 
I sent two expanding bullets, hoping to spring a 
leak in her, though I was not certain if I should suc¬ 
ceed, as the wood of these canoes is thick. I think I 
did, however, since even when she had got on her 
course again she came more slowly, and I thought 
that once I saw a man bailing. 

On we went, making the most of the advantage 
that this check gave to us. But by now our men were 
very tired and their hands were raw from blisters, so 
that only the terror of death forced them to continue 
paddling. Indeed, at the last our progress grew very 
slow, and in fact was due more to the current than 
to our own efforts. Therefore the following canoe, 
which as was customary in Walloo boats of that size, 
probably carried spare paddle men, once more gained 
upon us. 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 257 

Hereabouts the river wound between its cliffs so 
that we only got sight of it from time to time. When¬ 
ever we did so I took the Winchester and fired, no 
doubt inflicting some damage and checking its ad¬ 
vance. 

At length the winding ceased and we reached the 
last stretch, a clear run of a mile or so before the 
river ended in the swamp that I have described. 

By this time pursuers and pursued, both of us, were 
going but slowly, drifting rather than paddling, since 
all were exhausted. Whenever I could get a sight I 
fired away, but still with a sullen determination and 
in utter silence our assailants came up, till now they 
were scarcely twenty paces from us, and some of them 
threw spears, one of which stuck in the bottom of our 
canoe, just missing my foot. At this spot the cliffs 
drew so near together at the top that I ceased shoot¬ 
ing, as I could not see to aim, and, having no cart¬ 
ridges to waste, decided to keep those that remained 
for the emergency of the last attack. 

Now we were in the ultimate reach of the river, and 
now at last we grounded upon the first mudbank of 
the swamp. Those who remained unhurt of the fol¬ 
lowing Walloos made a final effort to overtake us; by 
the strong light that flowed from the open land be¬ 
yond us I could see their glaring eyeballs and their 
tongues hanging from their jaws with exhaustion. I 
yelled an order. 

“Seize everything we have and run for it!” I 
cried, grabbing at my rifle and such other articles 
as were within reach, including the remaining cart¬ 
ridges. 

The others did likewise—I do not think that any¬ 
thing was left in that canoe except the paddles. Then 
I leapt on to the shore and ran to the right, following 
the edge of the swamp, the rest coming after me. 


258 heu-heu, or the monster 

Fifty yards or more away I sank down upon a little 
ridge from sheer exhaustion and because my cramped 
legs would no longer carry me, and watched to see 
what would happen. Indeed, I was so worn out that 
I felt I would rather die where I was than try to flee 
farther. 

We grouped ourselves together, awaiting the crisis, 
for I thought that surely we should be attacked. 
But we were not. At the mudbank the pursuing 
Walloos ceased from their efforts. Fora little while 
they sat dejectedly in their craft till they had re¬ 
covered breath. 

Then for the first time those mute hunting-hounds 
gave tongue, for they shouted maledictions on us, 
and especially on our four paddlers, the neophytes 
of Heu-Heu, telling these that although to follow 
them farther was not lawful, they would die, as Issi- 
core died who left the land. One of our men, stung 
into repartee, retaliated in words to the effect that 
some of them had died in attempting to keep us in the 
land, as they would find if they counted their oars¬ 
men. 

To this obvious truth the pursuers made no an¬ 
swer, nor did they inform us who sent them on the 
chase. Securing our small canoe, they laid in it cer¬ 
tain dead men who had fallen beneath the bullets of 
Hans and myself, and departed slowly up stream, 
towing it after them. This was the last that I saw of 
their handsome, fanatical faces and of their con¬ 
founded country in which I went so near to death, or 
to becoming a prisoner for life, that might have been 
worse. 

“Baas,” said Hans, lighting his pipe, “that was a 
great journey and one which it will be nice to think 
about, now that it is over, though I wish that we had 
killed more of those Walloo men-stealers.” 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 


259 

“I don’t, Hans; I hated being obliged to shoot 
them,” I answered; “nor do I wish to think any more 
of that race for our lives, unless it comes back in a 
nightmare when I can’t help doing so.” 

“Don’t you, Baas? I find such thoughts pleasant 
when the danger is past and we who might have 
been dead are alive, and the others who were alive 
are dead and telling the tale to Heu-Heu.” 

“Each to his taste; yours isn’t mine,” I muttered. 

Hans puffed at his pipe for a while, and went on, 

“It’s funny, Baas, that those carles did not get out 
of their canoe and come to kill us with their spears. 
I suppose they were afraid of the rifles.” 

“No, Hans,” I answered, “they are brave men who 
would not have stopped because of the bullets. They 
were afraid of more than these: they feared the Curse 
which says that those who leave their land will die 
and go to hell. Heu-Heu has done us a good turn 
there, Hans.” 

“Yes, Baas, no doubt he has become Christian in 
the Place of Fires and is repaying good for evil, turn¬ 
ing the other cheek, Baas. Bad people often grow 
holy when they are dying, Baas. I felt like that 
myself when I thought those Walloos were going to 
catch us, but now I feel quite different. Baas, you 
remember how your Reverend Father used to say that 
if you love Heaven, Heaven looks after you and pulls 
you out of every kind of mudhole. That’s why I’m 
sitting here smoking, Baas, instead of making meat 
for crocodiles. If it wasn’t for our forgetting about 
those jewels, it has looked after us very well, but 
there are so many up there that perhaps Heaven for¬ 
got them also.” 

“No, Hans,” I said, “Heaven remembered that if 
we had tried to carry bags of stones out of that boat, 
as well as Zikali’s medicine and the rest, the Walloos 


260 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

would have caught us before we got away. They 
were quite close, Hans.” 

“Yes, Baas, I see, and that was very nice of 
Heaven. And now, Baas, I think we had better be 
moving. Those Walloos might forget about the 
curse for a little while and come back to look for us. 
Heaven is a queer thing, Baas. Sometimes it 
changes its face all of a sudden and grows angry— 
just like the lady Dramana did when you said that 
you wouldn’t take her with you in the canoe yester- 

Allan paused to help himself to a little weak whisky 
and water, then said in his jerky fashion, 

“Well, that’s the end of the story, of which I am 
glad, whatever you may be, for my throat is dry with 
talking. We got back to the wagon all right after 
sundry difficulties and a tiring march across the 
desert, and it was time we did so, for when we arrived 
we had only three rifle cartridges left between us. 
You see we were obliged to fire such a lot at the 
Heuheua when they attacked us on the lake, and 
afterwards at those Walloos to prevent them from 
catching us that night. However, there were more 
in the wagon, and I shot four elephants with them 
going home. They had very large tusks, which 
afterwards I sold for about enough to cover the 
expenses of the journey.” 

“Did old Zikali make you pay for those oxen?” I 
asked. 

“No, he did not, because I told him that if he tried 
it on I would not give him his bundle of mouti that we 
cut from the Tree of Illusions and carried safely all 
that way. So as he was very keen on the medicine, 
he made me a present of the oxen. Also I found my 
own there grown fat and strong again. It was a 


26 i 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 

curious thing, but the old scoundrel seemed to know 
most of what had happened to us before ever I told 
him a word. Perhaps he learned it all from one of 
those acolytes of Heu-Heu who fled with us because 
they feared that they would be murdered if they 
stayed in their own land. I forgot to tell you that 
these men—most uncommunicative persons—melted 
away upon our homeward journey. Suddenly they 
were missing. I presume that they departed to 
set up as witch doctors on their own account. If 
so, very possibly one or more of them may have 
come into touch with Zikali, the head of the craft in 
that part of Africa, and before I reached the Black 
Kloof. 

“The first thing he asked me was: ‘Why did you 
not bring any gold and diamonds away with you? 
Had you done so, you might have become rich who 
now remain poor, Macumazahn.’ 

‘“Because I forgot to ask for them/ I said. 

‘“Yes, I know you forgot to ask for them. You 
were thinking so much of the pain of saying good¬ 
bye to that beautiful lady whose name I have not 
learned that you forgot to ask for them. It is just 
like you, Macumazahn. Oho! Oho! it is just like 
you/ 

“Then he stared at his fire for a while, in front, 
of which, as usual, he was sitting, and added: ‘Yet 
somehow I think that diamonds will make you rich 
one day, when there is no woman left to say good-bye 
to, Macumazahn. 

“It was a good shot of his, for, as you fellows 
know, that came about at King Solomon’s mines, 
didn’t it ? when there was ‘no woman left to say good¬ 
bye to.”’ 

Here Good turned his head away, and Allan went 
on hurriedly, I think because he remembered 


262 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

Foulata, and saw that his thoughtless remark had 
given pain. 

“Zikali was very interested in all our story and 
made me stop at the Black Kloof for some days to 
tell him every detail. 

knew that Heu-Heu was an idol/ he said, 
‘though I wanted you to find it out for yourself, and 
therefore told you nothing about it, just as I knew 
that handsome man, Issicore, would die. But I 
didn’t tell him anything about that either, because, if 
I had, you see he might have died before he had 
shown you the way to his country, and then I 
shouldn’t have got my mouti , which is necessary to 
me, for without it how should I paint more pictures 
on my fire? Well, you brought me a good bundle of 
leaves which will last my time, and as the Tree of 
Illusions is burned and there is no other left in the 
world, there will be no more of it. I am glad that it is 
burned, for I do not wish that any wizard should arise 
in the land who will be as great as was Zikali, Opener- 
of-Roads. While that tree grew the high priest of 
Heu-Heu was almost as great, but now he is dead 
and his tree is burned, and I, Zikali, reign alone. 
That is what I desired, Macumazahn, and that is 
why I sent you to Heuheua Land.’ 

“‘You cunning old villain!’ I exclaimed. 

“‘Yes, Macumazahn, I am cunning just as you are 
simple, and my heart is black like my skin, just as 
yours is white like your skin. That is why I am 
great, Macumazahn, and wield power over thousands 
and accomplish my desires, whereas you are small 
and have no power and will die with all your desires 
unaccomplished. Yet, in the end, who knows, who 
knows ? Perhaps in the land beyond it may be other¬ 
wise. Heu-Heu was great also and where is Heu-Heu 
to-day?' 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 263 

“ ‘There never was a Heu-Heu/ I said. 

“‘No, Macumazahn, there never was a Heu-Heu, 
but there were priests of Heu-Heu. Is it not so with 
many of the gods men set up ? They are not and 
never were, but their priests are and shake the spear 
of power and pierce the hearts of men with terrors. 
What, then, does it matter about the gods whom no 
man sees, when the priest is there shaking the spear 
of power and piercing the hearts of their worshippers? 
The god is the priest or the priest is the god—have 
it which way you like, Macumazahn/ 

“‘Not always, Zikali/ Then, as I did not wish to 
enter into argument with him on such a subject, I 
asked, ‘Who carved the statue of Heu-Heu in the 
Cave of Illusions? The Walloos did not know/ 

“‘Nor do I, Macumazahn/ he answered. ‘The 
world is very old and there have been peoples in it of 
whom we have heard nothing, or so my Spirit tells me. 
Without doubt one of those peoples carved it thou¬ 
sands of years ago, an invading people, the last of 
their race, who had been driven out elsewhere and 
coming south, those who were left of them, hid them¬ 
selves away from their enemies in this secret place 
amid a horde of savages so hideous that it was re¬ 
ported to be haunted by demons. There, in a cave 
in the midst of a lake where they could not be come 
at, they carved an image of their god, or perhaps of 
the god of the savages, whom it seems that it resem¬ 
bled. 

“‘Mayhap the savages took their name from Heu- 
Heu, or mayhap Heu-Heu took his name from them. 
Who can tell? At any rate, when men seek a god, 
Macumazahn, they make one like themselves, only 
larger, uglier, and more evil, at least in this land, 
for what they do elsewhere I know not. Also, often 
they say that this god was once their king, since at 


2 6 4 HEU-HEU, OR THE MONSTER 

the bottom all worship their ancestors who gave them 
life, if they worship anything at all, and often, too, 
because they gave them life, they think that they 
must have been devils. Great ancestors were the 
first gods, Macumazahn, and if they had not been 
evil they would never have been great. Look at 
Chaka, the Lion of the Zulus. He is called great 
because he was so wicked and cruel, and so it was and 
is with others if they succeed, though, if they fail, 
men speak otherwise of them. 5 

/“That is not a pretty faith, Zikali,’ I said. 

“‘No, Macumazahn, but then little in the world is 
pretty, except the world itself. The Heuheua are 
not pretty, or rather were not, for I think that you 
killed most of them when you blew up the mountain, 
which is a good thing. Heu-Heu was not pretty, 
nor were his priests. Only the Walloos, and es¬ 
pecially their women, remain pretty because of the 
old blood that runs in them, the high old blood that 
Heu-Heu sucked from their veins.’ 

“Well, Heu-Heu has gone, Zikali, and now what 
will become of the Walloos?” 

“‘I cannot say, Macumazahn, but I expect they 
will follow Heu-Heu, who has taken hold of their 
souls and will drag them after him. If so, it does 
not matter, since they are but the rotting stump of a 
tree that once was tall and fair. The dust of Time 
hides many such stumps, Macumazahn. But what 
of that? Other fine trees are growing which also will 
become stumps in their season, and so on for ever.’ 

“Thus Zikali held forth, though of what he said I 
forget much. I daresay that he spoke truth, but I 
remember that his melancholy and pessimistic talk 
depressed me, and that I cut it as short as I could. 
Also it did not really explain anything, since he could 


THE RACE FOR LIFE 265 

not tell me who the Walloos or the Hairy Folk were, 
or why they worshipped Heu-Heu, or what was their 
beginning, or what would be their end. 

“All these things remained and remain lost in mys¬ 
tery, since I have never heard anything more of 
them, and if any subsequent travellers have visited 
the district where they live, which is not probable, 
they did not succeed in ascending the river, or if they 
did, they never descended it again. So if you want 
to know more of the story, you must go and find it 
out for yourselves. Only, as I think I said, I won’t 
go with you.” 

“Well,” said Captain Good, “it is a wonderful 
yarn. Hang me, if I could have told it better my¬ 
self!” 

“No, Good,” answered Allan, as he lit a hand 
candle, “I am quite sure that you could not, because, 
you see, facts are one thing and what you call ‘yarns’ 
are another. Good-night to you all, good-night.” 

Then he went off to bed. J? ^ \ ^ e - p 

& < be.eta? 

THE END 


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